


If So Be It Yield

by B_Radley



Series: The Minstrel Boy [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Situations and Language, Anger, Angst, Canon Compliant, Changing Relationships, Espionage, Growing Darkness, Growth, Healing, Love, Multi, War, learning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:05:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: In the final year before Order 66, the Jedi Order copes with the growing darkness, beginning with the trial of Ahsoka Tano. Individual Jedi, GAR troopers, and ordinary inhabitants of the Galaxy deal with the darkness as best as they can.A Jedi Knight questions his remaining in the Order, even as he struggles to teach his own Padawan in a difficult undercover assignment. A former Padawan finds her way in the galaxy. A pirate looks at her beliefs in who she trusts. A young Naboo handmaiden-in-training discovers reserves of courage and strength that she didn't think she possessed. A former Sith acolyte finds a bit more of the light.All amongst the backdrop of the cauldron of the final year of the Republic, as well as growth and a changing relationship.





	1. Prologue- Every day, when it gets so very dark

**Coruscant - Jedi Temple**

**Approximately one year before Empire Day**

My name is Taliesin Croft. I am a Jedi Knight. A peacekeeper who has found himself a general. A general of an army that I increasingly don't know what the hell we’re fighting for. An army increasingly surrounded by darkness.

For at least another rotation, at least, while that collection of 'respected' elders debates my fate. I sit on a bench in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, looking at the beauty of the greens and blues and golds throughout the room. For perhaps the last time, as they debate my expulsion from the Order. My fate as a Jedi, a path I chose over an offer from an Elder Family on Corellia, is being decided by a disparate collection of beings.

A collection of beings, who a month or so ago were willing to surrender one of their own, a young girl, a talented apprentice of arguably the most powerful Jedi of his generation, to be put to death by a military looking for vengeance.

A young girl who epitomized the light. A young girl - no, a _young woman_ who epitomized what the Jedi were meant to be.

A young woman who means more to me than most others in this Order. My hunt-sister. A young woman who has saved my life and I hers on several occasions.

Her corpse would appease the Republic and the military. It would appease the masses suspicious of the Jedi Order.

It would also tumble the Jedi Order down a long spiral to its doom.

The decision may still.

My Master, Shaak Ti, a woman more responsible for the man and the Jedi that I am than any other, was a part of that decision. As was Master Plo Koon, the Kel Dor who brought the young girl to the Temple and had shown nothing but love for her.

Council decisions were presented as unanimous, even with dissension. Master Ti refused to tell me how she voted. I can sense her shame. Her shame at the Council being manipulated by the darkness.

The darkness that I felt when I set foot on this planet. Under guard. My lightsaber in the possession of the masked Temple Guards escorting me from my ship. Escorting me to the Temple as Captain Jana Sloane and my officers of the 332nd watched. At least I had not been in Force-suppressant cuffs.

The last time that I had seen Master Ti, I, in my youthful disregard for anything other than my own opinion--at least in this situation--had taken her silence on her vote as an indication of her vote to expel.

I had lost my temper.

I had thrown words at her--my former Master. Words that had hit home at my mother-of-the-hunt in the traditions of her and the young girl's people. Words that I couldn’t take back. She had said nothing, but I had seen the hurt in her eyes.

The woman whose patience and serenity; her humor and love; had saved me and taught me to be a hunter, a Jedi, indeed, a person.

I close my eyes as I think of my idiocy. Of letting the same darkness that clouded the Council in their deliberations, cloud the respect and love I have for her.

I realized that she‘d never told me her vote.

I don't know if I cared anymore. Only that in my selfish anger, I had destroyed our bond.

Plo Koon had come to see me after the argument.

"You know what you have done to your Master, Taliesin," he says without preamble. His featureless mask gives nothing away, but I can feel the emotion rolling off of him. Being one of the few who has ever seen him without the mask, the product of being one of the few who can prepare more extensive Kel Dor meals than simple soups, knows what that emotion looks like.

Right now, I am quite sure that his silver pupils are wide in his black eyes with this emotion.

I try to figure out how to respond. The wound is still too raw. I chose youthful asininity. "Well, Master Plo, I am sure that you realize what the Council did to Ahsoka. An innocent."

I feel the emotion change slightly. "Yes. I am aware of it every waking moment, Croft. As is your Master. My friend." His normally, warm, steady baritone has an edge to it.

He gives me ample opportunity to take a less obstinate tack. I, of course, being true to my heritage, ignore the opportunity.

"Careful, Master. You're coming dangerously close to attachment."

"Your sarcasm does not, in this instant, do you credit, young one."

_Young one or little one. Jedi-speak for 'shut up while you're behind."_

"Do I need to remind you, how many times Shaak Ti defended your actions to the Council? Or even defended your little compatriot Baldrick for your youthful indiscretions? Do you know how many times, she was called on the carpet by Master Windu, for defending you so vigorously? Do you know how many times, I could feel the despair and worry rolling off of her, when something stupid you had done resulted in some injury to you? Or how she hoped every day that she could provide an example to you; to help you when you were despairing of succeeding; when your confidence level was on the deepest level of this world?"

Each sentence strikes me like a lightsaber thrust.

Straight to the heart.

I suddenly realize that I, a General of the Grand Army of the Republic, a full Jedi Knight, and a veteran of over two and a half years of war at the ripe old age of twenty-four, am about to start bawling like I am just in the crèche for the first few days.

I slump on my bench in this self-same Room. Plo sits next to me. His voice is softer, but no less firm. "Do you realize how many other Masters and Councilors continuously both overtly and covertly accused her of excess attachment to you? Of how she didn't change a thing in how she taught you and defended you, much like she would've defended her kinfast against the _Akul_?" He pauses and puts his taloned hand on my shoulder. "She, like I, didn't look at it as attachment. Rather we looked at it--indeed, we still look at a Master-Padawan relationship as a partnership. Yes, there is guidance, sometimes direction;" I can feel him looking at me sharply, but with humor; "but there is also mutual learning from each other. There is mutual respect, and yes, love. Unselfish love."

I remain silent as I absorb the painful words. Plo looks at the floor. "The Council knows what it has done. Some see it now, it weighs on them. I will feel Little 'Soka's loss until I take my last breath. She will always be on my mind. As, I have no doubt, she will be on your Master's mind. I do not know what would've happened if she had been sentenced to death."

I can feel a bit of the dry humor creeping through the despair. "The young do not have a monopoly on righteous indignation."

"Master Plo, what do I do?"

"You concentrate on keeping yourself in the Order and away from the tender mercies of the GAR. We'll concentrate on anything else after that. It is what she wants."

"Can I talk to her?"

He stands up and looks at me. "She has already left for Kamino. She has something to take care of; something she has learned from Elle Jaquindo." He holds up his hand at the expression that is surely on my face. "Don't worry, son. She will be part of the deliberations."

As he leaves, I feel a slight smile on my face. Things will be alright if I am being 'son-ed' by Plo Koon again.

XXXXX

I shake my head at the memory. As I do, I sense someone else coming into my area of the room. I come alert as I see the large figure in a too-small robe and hood stalking over to me.

The figure has no Force-signature of his own, but I recognize the personality that he projects in the Force.

"I really hope that there isn't a small Jedi unconscious in the bushes somewhere. Or hanging on a clothesline," I say.

The figure reaches up and pulls the hood down. A very large representative of millions of GAR troopers smirks at me. "Can't they make _jetti_ a one-size-fits-all?" He sits next to me on the bench, nearly knocking me off the edge with his bulk.

His face grows grim. "How're you doing, Tal?" he asks.

"I'm here," I reply.

I see his eyes narrow as he looks me square in mine. I don't break the gaze.

"Would you stop fucking feeling sorry for yourself, _Vod_?" he all but shouts. Other Jedi in the Room glare at him.

He glares right back.

He turns back to me. "Why does it feel like you've given up, Croft?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I say, glaring at him.

"Well, it looks like you're sitting here on your narrow ass feeling sorry for yourself, contemplating your navel, waiting on them to toss you out on your ear."

"Think its pretty much a foregone conclusion, Drop. Only working out the details. Tarkin and a blaster bolt to the head, like they had in store for Ahsoka, or an exciting life in the AgriCorps."

"Pretty much the same," Drop says.

I can't disagree.

"Well, why don't you just kneel here and I'll save them the trouble."

I don't respond.

I see him grit his teeth in frustration. "Come on, Croft. This isn’t the man that I’ve fought with and loved like a brother for two years. The man who took lightsaber blades and horns to save his men. The man who refused to leave anyone behind and died every time one of his men got a fucking hangnail. The man who agonized over the fact that he couldn't be a peacekeeper any more. The man whose heart bled when his little hunt-sister showed up in a meat-grinder. The man whose pride in that little, no, _that young woman_ as you say _,_ when she fought and gave blood to save her men nearly overwhelmed us all. A young woman he had to let go of for another teacher to take over shaping her life."

It is amazing how much dust you can get in your eyes in this room.

He snorts in contempt. "You apparently aren't the man I thought you were. You've already surrendered. You've already let down Ahsoka. General Ti. Elle. Hell, you've let down all of your men; men who don't have much anyway, except for the hope that their General gives them. Most importantly, you've let yourself down. You've given up on yourself."

I look at him. "What the hell do you expect me to do, Drop?"

"Stand the fuck up. Look like you've at least got half of the fire that we're used to. Go in that room and stand proud for what you did for an idea and an innocent." His face softens as much as it can. "Do you think Mouse," I smile at his nickname for Ahsoka, "or General Ti would want you to give up? They would expect you to keep fighting."

He falls silent. I can take the silence no longer. "So what book did you get all of this out of?"

The Null grins. " _How to Get a Jedi's Head out of His Ass in Two Easy Lessons, by T. Croft, Esquire._ "

"Did it have pictures?"

"Yeah. It showed a large clone kicking the ass of a little shit of a Jedi."

"Drop?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He waves it away. "Don't mention, it, General of Plant-pushers"

I snort. "So warm and fuzzy."

"Can I do anything for you?" he asks.

"Yeah. You can go in the undercity and find Ahsoka. If you can talk to her, okay, but mostly let me know if she is alright."

"I can do that. Do you want me to drag her back to you?"

"No! Hell, no! One, I don't think you could do it; I've already seen her kick you in the balls once. This time she might make Elle very sad."

"Well, Elle has come close to doing that herself."

We fall into a comfortable silence.

Drop stands and nods. Two Temple guards come into the room. Their staves are sheathed, but their intent is clear. "Guess I've worn out my welcome."

He reaches down to me and seizes me in an engulfing embrace. I rest my forehead against his armor, under the robe. We break apart. His smirk, which would do a certain young Togruta proud, covers his face. "Don't get any ideas, _Vod_. Doesn't mean we're going to spend long hours gazing at the stars together."

"I'll try to keep my disappointment down."

"I'll be in touch,” he says. He touches his fingers to his forehead.

**Jedi Temple  
Council Chamber**

Yoda watches as the Council assemble. So many via hologram. Fighting the darkness. The darkness that has brought them together. To judge one Jedi's response to the fallout.

Mace calls the Council to order. The Korun begins. "You all know why we are here. The question is, do we expel Jedi Croft from the Order and turn him over to the GAR for trial for disobedience of orders, or is there another punishment that we can mete out."

Obi-wan Kenobi speaks up. "There is a third option. We try to put this whole sordid mess behind us and let him stand with no punishment. There should be no punishment for doing what a Jedi is sworn to do. To protect an innocent."

Ki-Adi-Mundi retorts, "We can’t do that. So far, we have been able to keep this off of Tarkin's sensors; there is flexibility for the commander to recall his ships if they have been behind enemy lines, but that may not stand. You saw how the blood on the water drew our enemies with the last affair."

Windu continues. "As much as I’m trying to be objective, the bottom line is that Croft threatened a member of the Council. That disobedience will not stand. It’s my feeling that Jedi Croft should be expelled. What happens to him after that is Republic business."

Obi-wan's eyes flash, "Would you be so quick to act if it was anyone but you who was threatened? He didn't threaten you personally. He just said that he would break Ahsoka out of prison if she was sentenced to death."

"Yes, using three Republic stardestroyers to do it," Windu says, "As much as some would like to believe it, I have nothing personal against Croft." But the Order must be willing to police itself, or that privilege will be taken away from us by the Senate."

"It seems like we already have lost that privilege," Plo Koon rumbles.

No one speaks to that. Obi-wan turns and speaks to a hologram.

"Master Ti, you have been silent. What do you have to say?"

The tall Togruta stands. All eyes are upon her. "We’re engulfed in darkness," she says softly. "This Council - the guiding body of an Order who stands for light, has become lost. We allowed a young member of this Order to be expelled with no protection against the darkness. We allowed the Republic to dictate to a sovereign body."

Yoda can sense her pain, even across the parsecs. His ears twitch back at her despair, so apparent in her soft voice. Yoda can also sense the heat rise in her mind as she speaks.

"With her expulsion, even with the thinnest of evidence against her, we doomed her to an almost certain, violent death. How many of you visualized that child of light and skill with the Force lying with her hands bound and her body pierced with blaster bolts? A minor by our own laws, as well as those of Coruscant." Her violet gaze pierces them all. Some of them have the sense to look away. "Even when she was found innocent, after the work of her Master, as well as the testimony of another lost child, we begrudgingly offered her entrance back into the Order; we tried to pass our failure off as 'just a test to make her a better Jedi.' We even tried to bribe her with a Knighthood."

She again circles the room with her gaze. Obi-wan is smiling at her. Yoda can see that she cannot meet his gaze.

"She made the obvious choice," Ti continues. "The painful choice to admit that she could not stay here. Not after the mistrust that we had shown her. The intolerance." She looks straight at Windu. He does not shrink from her gaze. "Then, when she made that choice, we blamed her for making it. As if nothing had happened."

"Now, wait a minute," Windu says. He cuts off as she stares at him silently. He looks away.

"We now have the opportunity to make a choice. To again dance to the Senate's tune and the GAR's, to cast out another to their tender mercies. Or another of our own agency. You know how I have stood up for my former Padawan. How he has tested my patience, as well as this Council's. I would say that he has challenged us. We should be up to the challenge. He represents younger members of the Jedi who are losing faith in this Council's ability to stand up to the darkness."

"I ask, no, I beg the Council, do not compound this mistake. Do not lose another promising young Jedi. He deserves punishment for his intemperance. But not the ultimate. The Order may not withstand the loss of another."

She sits. Yoda can see members nodding in agreement. But the older, more orthodox members' expressions are blank. Yoda feels her struggle to tamp down the despair.

"Does anyone else have anything to say?" Windu asks.

"I do."

Shaak's eyes widen. Luminara Unduli stands. Her eyes shadowed with pain. The Council waits expectantly. Shaak closes her eyes.

Luminara takes a deep breath. "Master Ti speaks many truths. The most significant is the fact that all of us on this Council bear responsibility for this." She glances down. She looks up, seeking out Yoda. He gently smiles and nods. "We did not and we do not see this darkness." She closes her eyes. "I most of all."

There is a low murmur. She plunges forward. "I didn’t recognize the pain. The fear. The darkness in my Padawan. Until it was too late. Until her fall. Until she betrayed her beliefs, and most of all, she betrayed an innocent friend and murdered other innocents. This will be my shame and my failure. We should share in this shame that we were willing to cast out an innocent. Now we are deliberating if we should cast out a Knight for speaking out. Perhaps with the wrong method, but speaking out against the darkness. I am not optimistic for the Order's ability to survive this darkness that we have found ourselves immersed in."

She looks at them all, one by one. Yoda sees her eyes lock with Ti’s. "I will not vote to expel Jedi Croft. I recommend that no one does."

The chamber is silent as she lowers herself to her seat. Shaak rises, turns to Luminara and slowly bows to the Mirialan.

Yoda looks at his fellow Council members. "Many truths spoken by both. You as well, my friend," he says, looking at Mace. "Fight the darkness, we must, but at no more cost to our young." He gazes at the Council. "No cost that we can prevent."

"Deliberate on an appropriate sanction, we must."

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft stands in the center of the Council chamber. He notices that Ti is absent. He has taken Drop's advice; he stands straight with his eyes clear.

Windu looks at him. "Jedi Croft, you‘ve been accused of a serious offense. That you were disrespectful and insubordinate to a member of this Council."

Croft narrows his eyes at the Korun. The Master locks eyes with him. "However, we understand the affects of the darkness of your uninterrupted campaigns behind Separatist lines. We feel that the darkness has affected your judgement."

 _Seems to be the convenient fucking excuse for everything around here._ Plo shakes his head slightly as he sees Croft's expression.

"Therefore, you will not be expelled from the Order. The squadron's movement was within its window to be relieved at its commander's discretion since you had spent so much time in Separatist space. You and the commander were within your discretion. The records will reflect that."

The Korun pauses, looking at Yoda. "However, we feel that some sanction is needed for your disrespect."

"You are hereby relieved of your command of the 332nd. You are stripped of all responsibilities as a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You will return to the Temple for other duties as assigned."

Taliesin feels his chest constrict.

Windu continues. "It is hoped that you will find peace and rest after your honorable service in defense of the light and the Republic."

"Examined your Padawan, we have," Yoda says. "Adamant he is, that he wishes to remain with you. A teacher of skill, you are." The little green being smiles, gently. "An impression you have made, in only a few months."

_I guess the fact that he came back to the Fleet around the time I was deciding to 'be insubordinate', after his Temple cycle helps._

"You will remain at the Temple and work with young Gungi," Mace finishes. “Do you have anything to say?"

_Why didn't you just turn me over to Tarkin? The end result is just as horrible._

He closes his eyes. _I‘ve let my_ Vod'e _down_.

Plo rises and walks to him. "Master Ti couldn't be here. She asked me to give you this."

A purple and gold-toned cylinder is placed into his palm.

For an instant, he imagines he hands it back to the Kel Dor and stalks out.

Instead, he hangs the saber on his belt, bows and calmly walks out.

 

 

 

 


	2. That I can read no more,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Navy comes calling on the Jedi. All is forgiven?

**Coruscant  
Jedi Temple  
  
**

Captain Jana Sloane sits in a waiting area in the Jedi Temple. She sits respectfully, but she can feel her anger and discomfort at being in this place. It has been a week since she had heard from Croft. She knew that he had been relieved and assigned to the Temple for 'spiritual renewal,' as the Padawan at the communications hub had termed it when she had called. As such, he was unable to take her call.

It had been a close-run thing for her. She had commanded the flagship and had taken over as acting Commodore when their superannuated Admiral had finally hauled down his flag and retired. It was she who had decided to follow Croft on his quest.

_Not exactly her finest hour._ Her expression flashes fire.  _I would do it again for him in a heartbeat. Not because of his ready grin and how he makes me feel, but because that young Padawan meant something to him._

After she had seen the flimsy evidence against the girl, she had agreed with his plan. Mostly, she had trusted his instincts about her. He had written orders that would absolve her of any blame. His orders were made lawful by the fact that they had exceeded the threshold for duty behind hostile lines, triggering a window for self-reassignment.

They didn't exactly know what the hell they were going to do when they got to Coruscant. Three Stardestroyers, only one of which would probably do anything.

When they got back, she had seen Croft's face light up when he had heard Ahsoka had been acquitted, only a few days before. She then got to see it fall when he was told she had refused their offer of re-entry and a Knighthood. She had seen the uncharacteristic anger in Croft's face.

If she had been thinking after their fifteen days in hyperspace and continuous stressful mission before that, she would have had Drop stun Croft and lock him up. He had gone to the Temple and lost his temper with Windu, resulting in the visit from the Temple guards the next morning.

He had come back after his argument, his eyes haunted. He had come to her quarters and simply laid his head in the crook of her arm. They had talked. He had told her about his hunt-sister and her accomplishments. Sloane had met her once on Z'ambique. She was highly impressed with the young woman; the power and the bright intelligence of her questions.

Sloane was also impressed by the way that she could put Croft in his place with her snark. A snark tempered by obvious respect.

Before they slept, she and Croft had ignored the repercussions of his intemperance. She had pushed him down on her bed and they had made slow and gentle love. They had finally fallen asleep in each other's arms in the late mid-watch. When she awoke, he was gone. She had barely managed to get dressed and get to the entry hatch just as he was leaving with the faceless Temple guards, his lightsaber hanging on one of their belts.

Admiral Wullf Yularen clears his throat, bringing her back to the present. He looks at her with a strange expression. She realizes she has a wistful smile on her face. She brings her face back to its angry mask.

A child walks up to them. A young Tholothian. Jana thinks immediately of her gunner. He had disappeared nearly a year ago on a mission to Raxus. She suspected that he had deserted, after the deaths of his wife and five children at the hands of the Separatists; but she had nonetheless marked him 'Discharged/Dead' in the log, rather than 'Run.'

"Master Windu will see you now, Admiral." The young girl bows.

"Thank you Initiate," Yularen says. "Your name is Katooni, right? You were on that Gathering that Ohnaka helped rescue."

The girl flushes and looks down. "It was more Padawan Tano and us who rescued him, but yes, Admiral. Thank you for remembering."

"Have you been chosen, Katooni?"

"No, sir. Gungi is the only one who has been chosen."

Jana grows even more angry as he thinks of the smallness of the universe. Ahsoka and Gungi had been together on that mission. She does smile as she thinks of the earnest young Wookiee.

Katooni shows them into the room. Yularen turns to Katooni. "Thank you, Initiate. May the Force be with you." The young woman bows, her face flushing again.

Windu smiles. "It is good to see you, Admiral."

"And you, Master Windu. May I present Captain Jana Sloane of the _Venator_. She is one of our best young Captains."

Windu and Sloane stare at one another. "I am familiar with Captain Sloane's skill, Admiral. I have read many of Croft's reports. It is even more telling that she has gone from junior Lieutenant to full Captain in less than three years."

Sloane continues to stare at Windu. Finally, she begrudgingly bows. The Korun narrows his eyes. "Thank you, General," she says. "I hope to work with General Croft again. We had a great deal of success together."

The silence is leaden. Sloane hears Katooni quietly gasp from her post at the door. Yularen turns and glares at her. Her face is expressionless for the first time since she entered the room.

"Yes," Windu says. "I believe that your personalities meshed well."

"No sir." she says without thinking. "Our skills did."

Windu's eyes grow even harder. He holds her gaze for a moment. If Sloane wasn't prepared, and was much less experienced, she would've probably blinked. The Master turns to Yularen. "I have read your report. Is the Fleet really stretched that thin?"

"Yes, Master, we are. We have been losing the war of supply in the Outer Rim. The Separatists are taking out three of our supply convoys for their one that we are able to take. The Outer Rim campaigns may suffer if we can't either protect our convoys better or take more of theirs."

Windu is silent as he contemplates this. "Do you have any ideas as to what we can do? It will be a time before we get more Stardestroyers to replace those we have lost."

"Yes, Master, we do. Captain Sloane."

Sloane speaks up. She keeps her eyes and voice professional. "I have studied Corellian techniques during some of their pirate campaigns. They have been successful at co-opting some of the best--or worst--of the pirates. They offer them letters of marque--essentially passports for them to pirate, as long as they pirate against who the government wants."

"I am not sure we want to engage with criminals, Captain," Windu says.

Jana manages to keep her expression even. "Well, we will be keeping them from their depredations, while having them act as privateers for the Republic."

"Also, there are a small number of pirates who have reputations for honorable actions. They don't kill innocents and aren't overly cruel. They are very successful. I will stress that they are very few in number. They are also independent of the Hutts and other crime syndicates."

"We might be able to infiltrate one and convince them to convince other Captains to join us. At least for the duration of the War."

Windu turns to Yularen. "What do you think, Admiral?"

"I think that we need to do something. We might even be able to convince some of them to escort our convoys; as long as we make it lucrative for them."

"What about paying them? We don't have a great deal of credit."

Yularen looks again to his young Captain. She nods. "I have studied the Corellian model, Master. They make the insurance consortiums finance a prize-court system. It is possible to make it less expensive to pay escorts per hull brought in safely than to pay out claims. It would also have to be less risky for them to collect prizes rather than trying to unload them in the Hutt markets."

"What do you need from the Jedi, Admiral?"

"Well, your support, for one. The other, we need a Jedi to go into the rancor's den and try to convince them to privateer for us."

"I suppose you have someone in mind, Captain Sloane."

She looks at Yularen. He sighs and nods slightly.

"Yes sir. I do. May I speak freely?"

"I don't think it would help if I said no," the Korun says dryly.

"Taliesin Croft is wasted on a 'spiritual retreat', Master. He longs to be a peacekeeper, a Jedi. But this war has made him a complete warrior. He is the best I have seen at unconventional warfare."

She allows her mind to wander to the past. "I only know of Jedi what I have experienced myself, both in the Navy and in the Judicials." She smiles. "It has been a mixed bag for me."

"But General Croft is also the best I have seen at persuading people to do the impossible. You will need both qualities."

She falls silent. Windu continues to look at her. A gradual smile comes across his face. He nods. "Thank you for your frankness, Captain. I can see why you and Croft worked so well together." He nods to both. "Thank you, the both of you. We will consider what you have said and be in touch within a day."

Both officers nod and turn to leave. "Captain." Sloane turns back to Windu. "Croft can't see you right now, but he asked that I pass a message along."

After a moment, she nods. "He said that he is fine and for you to keep the faith."

For a moment, she looks down. She fights to keep her eyes from tearing. After a moment, she is able to look him in the eye. "Thank you, Master Windu". She bows to him.

As they leave the Temple, she sees Yularen watching her face as they walk. She knows that she is unable to keep the many emotions from playing over her face. She silently curses to herself.

After a moment, Yularen stops. She stops and turns to him, steeling herself for the questions. "Jana, I have to ask. Did you allow your personal feelings to influence what you said about Croft?"

She looks at him directly. Unbowed. "No. Admiral. For over two years, I watched him live and die with his men's lives, all while achieving the impossible against incredible odds. He would be the first to dismiss what I said. But he is the best there is for this job."

Yularen nods. A look of partial satisfaction on his strong features. Features whose owner had taught her so much. She forges ahead with what is on her mind. "Do you think they will go for it, Admiral?" Jana asks.

"I don't know, my dear," he says, his eyes softening into something other than those of her commanding officer. "I will never place money on anything the Jedi will or won't do."

As they exit into the bright sunlight; they place their covers on in unison. Jana thinks about the last part of Tal's message. He would repeat it only to her. Especially when he was tracing the 'Survivor' tattoo on her right ribcage with his lips. It would be his mantra against her skin.

It took her a year of making love with him before she realized that the mantra was for him and not just her.

XXXXX

Windu mulls over his conversation with the two naval officers. His mouth turns hard as he thinks of Sloane's words about Croft.

A warm presence enters the room. "Troubled, I sense that you are, my old friend," says the owner of that presence. A presence that has taught him more than any other.

"You heard?"

"Yes. Much insight has Captain Sloane. For one so young."

"Including her 'insight' on young Croft?" Windu asks.

"Perhaps, that, most of all.' Mace watches his mentor's face grow pensive, his elfin ears twitching. "Much have we expected of our young. Much have they delivered," Yoda says. His ears and eyes droop at the last. "Much have they paid the price."

Windu knows for sure what he sees behind his eyelids. Something that he has seen in his mind's eye for nearly a month. A brief vision of a smiling, eager face. Her powerful young mind absorbing all that he and Yoda tell her as she boards the ship for Christophsis, so long ago, it seems, now.

"I know that you are thinking of young Ahsoka, Master. Do not bear that burden alone. We all failed her. But the Order must go forward, if we are to win this war against the darkness," Windu says gently.

For about the thousandth time in the last thousand Coruscant days, the Master asks himself the question. _Does anyone truly win a war?_

"What do you think about using Croft for this? I don't know if he is ready." He looks Yoda in the eye. "I don't know if I am ready to trust him. It has only been a ten-day or so since we sanctioned him."

A holocomm beeps. "Asked I have, another, with great insight," Yoda says. He waves his hand at the comm.

Windu's eyes narrow as Shaak Ti's visage comes into focus. She bows to them both. "Greetings, Master Ti," Yoda says, "gives me warm feelings to see you, it does."

"Master Yoda. Master Windu," the Togruta Master says simply.

"A question we have of your former Padawan. I believe read the Fleet's report you have, as well as their recommendations. What say you on his fitness?" Yoda asks.

"I believe he is the most qualified for this, Masters." she says.

Master Windu shakes his head. Ti focuses her gaze on him. Her Huntress's gaze. The gaze of a predator eyeing her prey. "I don't, Master Ti. I feel that Master Vos is more qualified."

"Really, Master Windu? You question my former Padawan, but you are willing to trust Master Vos with this sensitive a mission?"

"He is the only surviving Master who is a Shadow," Windu says.

"Yes. But I feel that you are biased against Taliesin."

"Perhaps it is you who are biased, Master Ti. Biased because of attachment."

"Attachment? What about Depa Billaba, Master? You have given her every benefit of the doubt."

Windu clinches his teeth, as he crosses his arms against his chest. Ti's eyes remain fixed on him, unblinking.

"Enough, both of you," comes a normally warm voice. For the first time in recent memory, both Masters hear an edge in the ancient voice. "Anger and discord, I will not have from two such trusted Masters. Show compassion for former students, you both do."

Windu sits again, rubbing his forehead. "You're right, Master." He looks at Ti. "My apologies, Shaak. I spoke intemperately."

"As did I, Mace. I shouldn't have brought Master Billaba into this. Especially as she is still healing."

Windu looks at Yoda. "I think that we should contact Croft. I know I have my doubts, but he has proven himself in spite of my doubts, before." He sighs. "I know that he is healing from the darkness and the fallout of the trial. He and other young Jedi."

Ti says nothing. Windu sees that Yoda's gaze grows soft as it locks on her. "Contact your former Padawan, you will, Master Ti?"

She shakes her head. "With all due respect, Master, I cannot." She doesn't elaborate.

Her pain-filled eyes speak for her.

Windu looks at Yoda. "I will contact him. He is back in Clawmouse clan. He and his Padawan are working with younglings."

Ti's gratitude is palpable to both Masters. Yoda turns to Mace as the holocomm fades. Windu looks down as he sees the pain in the Grandmaster's eyes as well.

**Jedi Temple  
Clawmouse Clan Training Room**

Mace Windu watches as Taliesin Croft helps a youngling struggle to bring her lightsaber up to the full arc of a swing. He sees the young Knight smile as the small Mon Calamari completes the arc. A young Padawan, a growing Wookiee, crows in triumph. The youngling swells visibly.

Windu recalls a scene a few years ago. A younger Taliesin Croft helping a young Twi'lek complete a parry. A slightly older Togruta initiate had played the same part of the Wookiee.

Windu's eyes grow dark as he realizes that the man standing before him is the only one who remains. Ahsoka Tano is gone her whereabouts unknown to the Council. The youngling, Jaylin, is dead, not even surviving his first few weeks as a chosen Padawan.

A Padawan chosen too young.

He notices Croft looking at him. His cold eyes are expectant. Expectant of a lightsaber slash.

Windu shakes the sadness away. His eyes take in Croft's appearance. He is no longer clad in his customary dark blue undertunic, tabard, and trousers. He is clad in a civilian dress shirt, and dark green trousers. Windu's eyes narrow.

He walks over. Taliesin turns to Gungi. "Take over, Fuzz. Keep 'em at it." Windu can feel the Wookiee's bright eyes gazing at him. The gaze is not warm.

Croft bows, grudgingly. Windu takes a deep breath. He is about to bring up Ahsoka and her trial.

The haunted look in Croft's eyes persuade him not to. Instead, he gets down to his reason for being here.

"Jedi Croft. We have an assignment for you. We need you to infiltrate a pirate ship in the Outer Rim and persuade that crew and others to accept the Republic's letters of marque to take Separatist supply convoys and help protect our own."

"Just like that, Master Windu? All is forgiven?"

Windu takes a deep breath. "I don't know about that, Taliesin. But the Republic needs you."

"So, am I rehabilitated? Can I have my battalion back?"

Windu is blunt. "Accomplish this and we will talk. Besides, the 332nd has been disbanded. Their companies farmed out to other battalions. Your training and leadership of them have benefitted many Jedi and troopers."

"So you took an elite unit and split them up. All because they were tainted with the stench of Croft?"

"Croft, I am not here to argue with you about your troops. Or your foolish actions."

Windu swears he has a look of triumph in his eyes _._ He closes his own for a moment. _There it is._

Croft shakes his head. He changes the subject. "What about my Padawan?"

Windu smiles. "If you feel he is ready, he can assist you. You have given good reports of some of your other missions. He seems to have acquitted himself well. It is your choice."

"No, Master. It is his. I could use his help, but I won't make him go."

Windu nods, secretly pleased. "Let's ask him."

Gungi's enthusiasm can be heard throughout the training room.

"Are you sure, lad? Could be dangerous," Croft reiterates.

Gungi nods emphatically. Windu is touched as he sees Croft's eyes well with gratitude.

"The Corellians have their eye on a likely ship," Windu says. "One whose Captain seems to have a powerful sense of honor, for a criminal."

"I'll be ready, Master," the young Jedi says.

_I hope that you will be, Taliesin,_ Windu thinks. _For you and your young Padawan._

Windu thinks about asking young Jedi to do the impossible.

XXXXX

**Corellia  
Office of the Procurator Fiscal and External  
**

Draq' Bel Iblis watches his daughter as she works. Since the Republic had seen fit to banish her from its space for helping them solve a problem, she had been quiet. None of the warm, laughing personality that he was used to.

She had even refused to engage in sarcasm and snark with Phygus Baldrick. Merely smiling at him softly and running her fingers through his hair.

He and Phygus had looked at each other in sadness.

Draq' had been ready to yell at her, but something in her eyes had stopped him.

_Could be the fact that Kamino is now considered to be Republic Space._

His anger grows as he thinks of his son allowing them to toss her off of Coruscant, a clone escort and a threat of binders around her wrists.

An assistant comes into the room. She looks sadly at Dani. She turns to Draq'. "Comm for you, Procurator. It's the Jedi. Master Yoda."

He nods. He waits before he activates the holocomm. And waits.

He grudgingly activates it. The small figure comes on.

"Still the same intransigence, Procurator," Yoda says with a smile. 

"Well, I'm busy, Master. Trying to clean up the Republic's mess."

"Grateful we are, Procurator, for your assistance. Make things right with you and yours, I hope to do."

"It will take a lot. Your treatment of Constable Faygan. My nephew and that young Padawan. I don't know if I want to deal with the Republic and the Jedi."

"Interservice rivalry, Constable Faygan's treatment is a result of. Director Isard's hand in that, it was."

"The other. Mistakes were made. By your nephew--our Jedi were some made."

Draq' bites back his reply. _Not the time._ "What do you want, Master?" he asks evenly. 

"Constable Faygan's expertise, we have need of. To assist Knight Croft in the Outer Rim."

He looks at Dani, off-holo. Her eyes are narrowed.

"The Blood Bone Order? Rhayme and her pirates?" Draq' asks.

"Yes. Sending Croft undercover, we are, as well as his Padawan. Reinforcement, he will need."

Draq' is silent. Dani has sat up. The first life in her eyes in weeks.

"What is in it for Corellia?"

Yoda's lips purse. "Reconnection with the Jedi and Corellia we will explore. For mutual benefit, of course."

Draq' smiles. "Of course. But we will exact our pound of flesh, Master. Dani's persona non grata will be reversed. No negotiations."

"Very well. Done, it is."

Draq smiles at his officer. "She goes to Kamino, first, before she goes to Rhayme's ship. For, uh, sharing of information." He tries to ignore Dani's rising excitement. Her hopeful expression splinters his heart.

Yoda is silent. Finally he nods. "Granted this is. For sharing of information."

"You will cover the difference in her salary between a Senior Constable and Constable. She gained this promotion on her last job for you. At great personal risk."

"Push it, you must not, Dragon," the little troll says, a twinkle in his eyes.

Draq' waits for a moment again, as if weighing the pound of flesh. "You have yourself some skilled back up, Master."

He manages to turn the comm off before a red blur is clinging to his neck. He smiles over her shoulders. The Dragon Smile.

She breaks free. He sees her eyes gleam. "You've been having me do all this stuff off of Corellia. That's Ranger work, not Security Officer work."

"Yeah?" he says, his eyebrow raised. "All Rangers are Inspectors or above," she says, a mercenary gleam in her eye.

He laughs and kisses her on her forehead. "Push it you must not, little girl."

She rests her head against his chest. He closes his eyes as he feels the joy in her resonance. _The renewal._

**Tatooine  
Mos Eisley Cantina  
One week later**

Lassa Rhayme looks at the human seated across from her. Her bronze eyes play over him, as well as the young Wookiee seated next to him.

_Certainly easy on the eyes._ She looks into the green eyes. His gaze is steady. His bearded face remains expressionless.

No, not expressionless. _Take it or leave it._

Her eyes track downward. A Corellian blaster is holstered on his hip. The young Wookiee is armed with one of those long Wookiee rifles, as well as a long knife on his back.

All of the weapons look well-worn and used.

"Okay. Say I take you on as my ship's cook. Are you willing to do anything less reputable than cook?"

"I have many talents, Captain," he says with a grin. He runs his eyes over her body, focusing on her open shirt. His eyes end on her blue face. A face that she knows is unique among her people--bare of the tattoos that usually mark a Pantoran's skin.

She looks into his eyes. She notices tiny gold flecks that she had not seen on first inspection. She shakes her head. "That remains to be seen. Lot of people want to demonstrate those talents, bud. Few can handle me."

"Never had any complaints at my skills, Captain," he says smoothly.

"Do you have references?" she asks.

"There's been a few hearts broken."

"Are we talking cooking, or those other skills?" she asks with her own smirk.

"Either."

She is conscious of the Wookiee looking back and forth at the give and take. She grins at the eyeroll from the young one.

"What about Fuzzy, here?"

"He's a little young, Captain...."

"Not that, smartass. You said he is pretty good mechanic. What's he to you?"

"Can't you tell? He's my son."

Gungi gives a snort. Lassa grins sharply.  _Someone should really_ _talk to him about his language. Wonder where he picked that word up?_ She sees the quick, sheepish grin from the Corellian, and instantly knows where.

She runs her eyes over his body as well, ending on his face. It returns to below his waist for a moment. She shakes her head.  "I can see the resemblance. What's your name?"

His smile fades. " _Bud_ works for me."

She looks sharply at him, knowing that her eyes have been compared to a pair of bronze daggers. Her Pantoran accent comes out sharply as her smile fades. "That will do for, now. But I am going to want more after a while."

"We can fall off of that bridge when we come to it, Captain," he says, his crooked smile disarming. 

Lassa takes a sip of her ale to hide how much she has been disarmed. She sighs as she feels her stomach, as well as places lower, flip.

_This is how it always starts._


	3. I walk along the street singing,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clone searches for family in the Coruscant undercity.  
> A Naboo handmaiden-in-training tries to protect her brothers on a refugee world.  
> A father searches for help for his family. He finds it in odd places.

SCoruscant  
 **Level 1313  
  
**

The huntress stalks through the dim light. Her keen senses tuned to her quarry. Senses that are bred through thousands of years of tradition and evolution.

Bred for a different world. A world of plains, of trees, and springs. Of huge four-legged predators with sharp teeth.

Teeth that were claimed years ago and make up a trophy. A trophy that now rests in a pouch on the huntress' belt. A simpler, more practical leather headdress now adorns her head. A headdress with only one tooth denoting her triumph.

She smiles a predator's smile. Dim light, dank streets. Her ability to hunt still works here.

The two-legged predators are no less dangerous, with their blasters and slugthrowers. Her own knife rests in her one of her new boots. Boots won in a game of chance. Necessitated by her growth spurts and the wear and tear on her clothes in the streets. Growth even in her feet, though they were still small.

She didn't have to use too much of the Force to swing the cards in her favor.

Other clothes will have to be exchanged at some point. Her Jedi tunic, much patched and worn before she came to this level, is uncomfortably tight across the chest and shoulders. She Smirks at that.

Ahsoka Tano returns her thoughts to her Hunt. Her prey seems to be tracking his own prey. A young Twi'lek woman. Walking home after a late shift in the cantina she serves drinks in. Ahsoka had warned her about walking home alone, when the young woman had given her a free meal of bar food.

The large Nikto, a refugee from a more lucrative crime gang, tracks what he thinks is easy prey.

She hears the scream of the Twi'lek. The Nikto is still in her view. She leaps from her higher ground down to the level of the scream in her montrals.

She doesn't see the large figure attempting to keep up with her from above.

As she leaps down to the level of the young woman, Nata, she sees one Nikto holding the woman. The Nikto smiles at her.

"So, little do-gooder. Finally get a look at you. Not bad. You might be a fun ride." He smiles a lustful smile. "If there is anything left of you after my brothers get through cutting you."

 _Brothers_.

She then realizes her mistake. They were trapping her. Nata was her bait. The young woman is released by the thug holding her. She looks apologetically at Ahsoka. Ahsoka shakes her head. "It's okay, Nata."

Survival on Level 1313 is tenuous. She can feel others coming towards her. From all directions. She crouches at the ready.

Two thugs, both very large humans, rush at her from each side. She leaps up, flips, and comes down behind them as they meet where she had been. A roundhouse kick to one slams one head into the other's. They both collapse onto each other.

The thug who had held Nata drops his victim and rushes her from the front, an electrostaff swinging at her. She leans back almost to the ground to avoid the swing. Her torso pops back up like a child's toy. She rushes the Nikto as the staff is cocked back. She tosses him over her shoulder, with a slight assist from her mystical friend.

She whirls around. Four more thugs, of various species and sizes rush towards her.

The Force screams a warning. She manages to bat aside a concentric ring that has been fired at her with the Force. A second ring staggers her. She stands. The four thugs have stopped and are staring at her in amazement. A third stun bolt knocks her to her knees.

The four thugs rush up to her and two seize her arms. She manages to jump up, using the two holding her as leverage and kicks the other two in their groins. Apparently, something important is kept there in their undetermined species' physiology, as they drop like rocks.The other two tighten their grip.

Her original target walks up to her, slinging his carbine. He walks up to her and punches her in the face.

Another fist follows up into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. The Nikto puncher smirks. "You don't look too bad, Togruta. Looks like when my brothers come to, everybody will have some fun. Except for the two whose balls you dropkicked."

"Don't be so sure, asshole." The Nikto whirls. An accented voice speaks from the dark. "She's kicked me in the balls before. Took me a couple of days to recover. Those little bastards may not get up for a week."

Ahsoka laughs as she hears the familiar voice. She laughs in pure joy. She swings the two thugs on her arms into each other. She explodes towards the thug with the blaster. She climbs up his frame and leaps, stepping on his head. She comes down behind where he has fallen. She moves forward and faces the two thugs she had smashed into each other. They stand and look at one another. They turn and run.

The sound of a blaster bolt turns her. The lead Nikto is lying on the ground clutching his knee, crying like a youngling. His carbine lies near him. She can see that it is no longer set for stun. She pulls the weapon to her. His eyes are closed tightly, so he didn't see her move with the Force. She remembers a lesson from a familiar face. A face who is the brother of the owner of the voice from above. The Force pops a small piece of tech out of place in the blaster. She hurls the blaster to the roof.

She looks at the Nikto. He has taken to blubbering, his hands clasped together in supplication. _You threatened me with being beaten within an inch of my life, and worse._

The tip of her new boot, the left one marked with some monkey-like creature that had drawn her to them in the first place, sends him to sleep.

She looks around, trying to find her benefactor. A benefactor with the voice of thousands of her own brothers.

She smiles as she feels the familiar presence, just before his large frame walks out into the dim light, his own DC-15S slinging over his shoulder as he moves.

"Thought you weren't going to leave me any, Mouse."

"Oh, you know. Thought you might want my leftovers, Beast."

Sergeant-Major Drop, late of the now-defunct 332nd Light Infantry, now of the Coruscant Barracks walks up to her. His huge frame is draped in some kind of cloak over his garrison blacks.

She falls into his arms, resting her face against his broad chest. He runs his hands over her back. "You sure have grown since I last saw you. Don't know if I can call you Mouse anymore."

She is silent. He pulls her head from his chest. Blood runs freely from her nose, as well as her lips. His eyes soften. "Do-gooding is hell, isn't it, sweetie?"

He pulls a cloth from his sleeve and uses it to staunch the flow from her nose. "He hit you in the stomach didn't he, Ahsoka?"

She nods. "Yeah. But I'm okay."

"Let me be the judge of that. Lift up your shirt for me."

Ahsoka stands and pulls it up to just below her chest. He kneels and deftly runs his hands over her orange belly. As his fingers play lightly over her skin, testing for damage, she tries to stifle the giggles and spasms his hands initiate. As he gets closer to her ribs, the giggles increases in volume. His own laughter is stifled. "Yes. Striking fear into the hearts of enemies everywhere--Ahsoka Tano--feared warrior. Unless you find her tickle-spots."

"Hope my vulnerability is safe, Beast." He jumps as she sticks her saliva-dampened finger into his ear.

"Brat," he says, as he wipes his ear.

He grows serious. "Little bit of bruising. I think you are okay. I can see your ribs pretty good, though.You had a meal today?"

"Had half a ration bar I stole from some sleemo who was harassing a family for squatting. Gave the other half to the kid."

"I'll buy you a meal. Come on."

"I know a place. They actually have _netra'gel_."

"Now, how would you know anything about _netra'gel_?"

"I know if you give me any grief about my age, I am going to think we are back playing Murder-Ball and serve you up the same I did last time."

"Point taken, kid. I'll buy. Lead on, Mouse."

XXXXX

The young Twi'lek is apologetic to Ahsoka. Ahsoka hugs her and whispers in her earcone. A pitcher of the dark, spicy Mando ale is placed on the table, as well as two bowls of a hearty meat stew and two loaves of bread.

Drop pushes his bowl to Ahsoka. She finishes both; they are replaced. Drop downs his ale and nibbles at the bread.

As soon as she has eaten her fill, he calls for ice. He wraps it in a towel. She places it against her still oozing nose.

She pulls it down. She looks him squarely in his amber eyes. "So did Croft send you to bring me back, Drop?"

"I asked him that, Mouse. If that was what he wanted when he asked me to find you. He said no." He smirks. "He was under the impression that I couldn't take you. That you would injure my privates again."

Her Smirk matches his. "Probably couldn't take me, Beast." She looks down. "I will never hurt another _Vod_ again."

He smiles. "I know you won't, dear." He changes the subject. "He sent me to see if you were okay. He didn't tell me his thinking, but I think that he respects your choice."

Her eyes tear. He looks away, giving her time to gather herself. "Doesn't mean he won't try to look after his hunt-sister."

"Where is he, Drop? Is he okay?"

The Null is silent for a moment.

"He had a rough go after he got back and found you gone. He is off-world on a mission. One that may not bring him back here for a good long time."

"How come you aren't there with him, Drop?" she asks. _That's the big question, my girl. He made it clear that he didn't want you to know he had lost his command._

"He was sent off alone. A battalion wouldn't help him, would hinder him even. I have been reassigned temporarily to the Coruscant Barracks as Garrison Sergeant Major."

_There. Not too far from the truth._

She looks at him. _Damnit_. _Those all-knowing big blue eyes,_

She looks away. "So," he says, "are you okay? I have some money if you need it."

"No, Drop. You have less than I do. I won't take anything from you."

"You're wrong, Ahsoka. I have my brothers and the GAR. You are out here all alone trying to do the good that you were taught to do. With nothing but your considerable guts, brains, and skills."

"I guess it would be too much to ask that you lay low and get a quiet job or something. What I saw tonight; if I told Croft, he would come charging in here."

"No, Drop," she chokes. "You can't tell him. Just like my Master, I have to do this on my own. I have survived pretty well in the month or so I have been here. Think I have a line on a speeder bike and enough credits to buy one. I'll be okay."

"Well, he did give me something. Some things that he found in your weapons locker. Things that are not technically property of the Jedi, but gifts to you."

She nods, smiling. He opens his pack and pulls out a pair of well-cared for DC-17s. Painted blue in the colors of her former battalion. Gifts for a name-day past. Gifts from the men who would follow and had followed her to hell and back.

The nerf-leather shoulder holsters are new. She picks them up and swings her arms through. They fit perfectly. Drop watches her as she closes her eyes. He knows that she is touching her mystical friend. Trying to find some sensation of her hunt-brother.

He smiles as her nostrils twitch. As if her preternatural sense of smell can pick up his scent.

"Mouse, you need to keep those undercover until you need them. Don't be waving them around. Use them sparingly. Keep them in this pack. There are plenty of ammo packs in there."

She rises. "Thanks for the drink, Drop. Tell Tal when you see him..." Her blue eyes take on a wistful look. "Tell him I am okay."

"I will, Ahsoka. You take care. Eat once in a while. There are plenty of rat-packs in there, as well. Don't be giving them away to every sad story."

"Yes, Mother," the girl snarks.

"You must be alright; you're being a smartassed little turd."

"It's what I do best now, Big Guy."

She embraces him tightly and is gone.

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. A meaty finger wipes away a tear. He sighs and gets up.

_Fucking war._

**Z'ambique  
Republic Refugee Center  
**

Nola Vorrserrie surveys the large vessels coming down into the dusty atmosphere. She purses her lips behind her respirator. Her eyes widen beneath the visor.

The young Naboo tries to steady her breathing. _Damnit. My first refugee mission and now the Seps decide to roll in. Might shake Padme's confidence in me._

She smiles for a second as she thinks of her distant cousin's words. _Just get the supplies distributed, No-No. You're a trained Handmaiden, dear. You will do a wonderful job._

Padme Amidala, Senator of the Naboo sector, had looked up at her and had taken her in her arms. _Don't worry how young you are, sweetie. You know my story. Trust in your troops. They won't try to undercut you. They are very loyal. If you do something wrong, the officer will take you aside and tell you._

She checks her blaster. The blaster that her brother-in-law had given her. Her foster-sister, Dani Faygan had taken her out and given her extra lessons with it.

She turns to the clone officer behind her. Thirty troopers was all the GAR could spare. She looks into the expressionless Phase II visor. At fifteen, Nola is nearly of a height with the trooper. She smiles with pride. She hasn't even hit her growth spurt. _Must be the Vorrserrie side; not the Naberrie side._

"Captain Tone, how many are there?"

"A couple of battalions, ma'am," he says. "We are outnumbered. We have sent the distress call."

"We are a humanitarian mission with full diplomatic immunity, Captain. They should respect that."

"All due respect, Representative. Don't think we can trust them. We should fight."

"Captain, if we do, you will be massacred, and we will lose the protection of the immunity. I will not spend your lives so easily."

"We could head for the hills, ma'am. Hide until help comes."

"No. We would leave our refugees unprotected. Captain. Please follow my orders."

"Yes, Representative. It is my job to present you with options."

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate you listening. I know that I am young. Can't be easy for you."

"It's easy as anything, ma'am. It's what we were born to do."

He salutes and turns away. _Time to eat this shit sandwich. Hope the Seppie is in a good mood._

He is especially worried about his young charge. _Kid is shaking in her boots, but damned if she isn't trying to do the right thing._

As the Seppie ships arrive, he incongruously thinks of the young commander he had served with in the opening days of the war as a shiny in the 501st. _She had guts and brains to spare._

He wonders where she is as the battledroids disembark.

The combination of B1 and B2 droids advance on their refugee center. Representative Vorrserrie is busy trying to get the refugees away from the camp and back into the general population. The med-droids are shifting the sick and injured of all three genders to transports to get them away.

Tone and his troopers form up. He sees a very large Neimoidian officer disembark from the transport. The officer is in the hatch of a tank that trundles forward.

Nola walks up next to the troopers. They wait.

XXXXX

General Lok Durd dismounts from his customary position on any vehicle that precludes him from having to walk. He waddles over to where the droids have disarmed and unhelmed the clones. They stand in a group, away from the sick and injured aborigines of this world.

A tall human female, dressed in a dusty, workstained, but fine uniform-like garment stands next to the clone officer. His bulging eyes narrow. _Here is something worth coming to this pit of a world. Other than the obvious profit for the only unrestricted market for the mineral._

He looks at the woman. Based on his knowledge of puny human physiology, she is very young. She might be considered attractive in certain circles. He walks up to the woman. He runs his hand over her cheek.

She jerks away. The clone standing next to her goes for Durd. He is restrained. Durd smiles. He can tell she is afraid, but she stares defiantly at him.

"I am General Lok Durd of the Separatist Alliance. We claim this planet in the name of our revered leader, Count Dooku. Everything here is ours. Or should I say, mine."

"What is your name, child?" he says to the tall young woman. "Where are you from?"

She remains silent. She raises her chin in defiance. Durd pulls his blaster and shoots the clone officer standing next to her between the eyes. The girl screams as bits of cooked blood and brain spatter her face and clothes. She falls to the ground with the clone. She gathers him in her arms.

Durd motions to two magnaguards. They jerk the young woman to her feet.

"I am unaccustomed to asking twice, my dear."

The name comes out in a sob. "N-nola Vorrserrie of the Naboo Relief Agency."

"Ah the Naboo. Such an interfering people. Someone will miss you, I suspect. Might pay handsomely for you."

She stills her sobs. Her eyes flash as she looks up at him. "This is a registered relief expedition. I and everyone here has diplomatic immunity and safe passage to be here. With the exception of this small force of troopers protecting......."

"Occupying, I would say, my dear," he says in his deep voice.

"You can see we don't have enough troops to occupy anything. They are merely armed for self-defense of our workers."

"No matter. You can appeal your case to the Separatist Senate. After your return to Naboo. After someone pays me one million credits for you."

"One million credits? The government of Naboo won't negotiate for ransom."

"Then someone had better be raising it back home. Or else I might take the highest bidders. You would fetch a good price from certain circles, say - on Tatooine or Zygerria."

"My family can't...."

"I am through talking, my dear Miss Vorrserrie. You wear the field clothing of a Queen's Handmaiden. She might value you."

Nola doesn't share that she is only in training, that the current Queen has never laid eyes on her.

"Your clones will assist with our mining efforts."

She panics. They won't survive that. Not with this murderous ass overseeing them. "You can't do that! They are prisoners of war."

"Please, my dear. Stop your endless prattle about laws and such. I am a soldier. I have no time for such."

"That man you murdered was a soldier. You aren't fit to carry his boots, you worthless piece of poodoo."

Durd smiles. It is not a charming facial expression. "I feel a lesson is in order. In order to motivate your clones, to maintain the highest production levels, I think I need to let them know what will happen if they rebel or decide not to produce."

The Neimoidian signals to a magnaguard. Without warning, both magnaguards touch their electrostaffs to Nola's sides.

Her screams lance through her troops as she spasms against the arcs of electricity. They struggle against the blasters of the droids. She manages to hold her hand up to stop them. One clone's slumped, resigned face is the last thing she sees as her vision fades to the center.

There is nothing but blackness.

Durd looks down at the young woman. "Take her to our new base. Wake her up so that we can send the message. Then put her under again. Put her in the holding cells when we are finished. He kicks the clone's corpse. "Make sure the dead clone is in her cell. So that she knows the folly of fighting back."

 **Naboo  
Theed**  
**Vorserrie Contracting and Engineering**

Polden Vorrserrie watches in horror at the face of his beloved youngest daughter. Her dark eyes dulled by pain as she recites the demands of the slug standing next to her.

He thinks of how proud he is of her. Of her desire for service, instilled from the first meeting with his wife's distant cousin, Padme Naberrie, Queen Amidala. Of her enthusiasm for learning the intricacies of politics.

Of her enthusiasm for learning the more practical side of being a Queen's handmaiden. He shakes his head as he thinks of his own hardscrabble upbringing. Of leaving school to carve a small construction company out of nothing. Of holding four jobs at a time to feed his growing family.

Of never asking for handouts from his wife's relatives.

His attention returns to the holo of his daughter. He sees movement from her right hand.

Tapping rhythmically on her leg. He turns to the woman sitting next to him. He sees Senator Amidala watching intently. The tapping stops. He looks into his daughter's eyes. So like his own.

He no longer sees pain. Something that shrinks his fear. Replaces it with another emotion.

Defiance. Pride of her own.

She looks into the pickup and silently mouths familiar words. _I love you._

The holo vanishes.

Padme turns to him. The two Jedi Masters watch. "She is so good at what she does, for one so young. I know that this is painful, but hold to that, Pold."

"The tapping?"

Padme smiles. "Yes. It is part of a Handmaiden's training. A unique tapcode."

"What did she tell you, Senator?" the severe-looking Jedi Master asks.

"Two battalions of droids. Landing ships. One clone officer dead, murdered to make a point to her. The other clones enslaved to reclaim the mineral. The mineral that we went to Z'ambique for originally."

The other Jedi Master, a tall, stately Togruta speaks up. "I thought that the Separatists had their own supply. Enough for them since they rely heavily on droids."

"You are right, Master Ti," the Korun Master, Windu, says. "However, we think Durd is making is own play. We have indications that there is a growing market with the Hutts for, shall we say, less medicinal purposes. We think Durd, in his guise as a weapons design scientist, may have helped develop it."

"So what does this mean for my daughter?" Vorrserrie says.

Padme touches his arm. "Pold, we cannot pay the ransom. The Queen is sympathetic, but she cannot put her personal feelings above her duty."

"What about the Republic? The Jedi and your clones?" he presses.

Windu purses his lips. "Mr. Vorrserrie. We are most pained at having to say this. Before the war, this would be what the Jedi were for - to protect the Republic's citizens and officers. But we and the army are stretched too thin. I am sorry."

Vorrserrie's anger rises. "Then what the hell do you exist for?" He stands up. "Pold, what are you doing?" Padme asks.

"I am going to the bank. I am going to see about liquidating my company. I might be able to raise the funds, but I don't know how fast."

"Pold..."

"Don't, Senator." He opens the door. "I have to. I don't have the luxury of all these high ideals. I am only a father looking after his daughter."

Padme looks at the Jedi as the grief-stricken father leaves. "He is right, you know. If we can't protect our own people, how can we be expected to protect the citizens at large? I, for one, am getting damned tired of hearing how stretched thin we are."

Windu's face grows thunderous. Shaak Ti speaks up. "Senator, we may not be able to help directly, but we do have some...different ideas that can help."

Windu's eyebrows rise in surprise. "The pirates with Croft?"

Ti nods. "Senator, I don't think that you need to know the details, as you are not a member of the Security Committee. Please reassure Mr. Vorrserrie that we have an idea. Please don't let him do anything rash. What I know of Durd is that he will take the ransom and then sell Nola to a pleasure house."

Amidala nods. "Very well, Master Ti. Thank you. This is very refreshing to hear that you have a plan."

**Theed  
Antol's Family Restaurant**

Pold Vorrserrie squares his shoulders as he waits on a 'friend' to see him.

A friend who will take his pound of flesh.

A square, thick human walks into the room. A huge presence in an expensive suit. He silently embraces Vorserrie.

"Hey, Nails," Skon Antol says. "Thanks for letting me know about Nola."

"Thanks for seeing me, Tank. I am at a loss at what to do."

"Sit. Tell me. We go back a ways."

_If you call me having to watch you beat rival construction workers for your father's 'business interests' going way back._

"The government can't do anything. I can't raise the ransom fast enough."

"What do you need, Nails?"

"Whatever you can give me."

The 'businessman' is silent. "We know each other, Vorrserrie. But there has to be an upside for me."

_You son of a bitch. How about I don't give those records I have to the cops._

He doesn't say it. He takes a breath. "I will do anything to get my girl back."

Antol nods and smiles. "We won't discuss it, now, but I will be collecting. I think about fifty-one percent of your business should do."

Vorrserrie closes his eyes. He sees a pair of bright eyes, a beautiful smile behind his eyelids.

"Okay."

"We'll be in touch, Nails. Oh, and Vorrserrie..."

The contractor stops.

"Don't cross me. The Seps will be the least of your worries, as far as your children go."

Pold's eyes flash, but he nods and walks from the restaurant, his shoulders slumped.

One of Antol's 'family' walks in. The one with the trigger finger tapping on his leg. "Let's keep this out of the family," Skon says.

"Contact Ventress."

 


	4. Look at every girl....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast and connections. A new mission for the pirate-Jedi.

**Free Vessel Opportunity  
The Outer Rim  
**

Taliesin Croft, now known as 'Bud' among the crew of this fine vessel, puts the finishing touches on breakfast. An onlooker would say that he is preparing something special, but the Captain would disagree. After sampling his skill, she had declared that he would prepare the same thing that she eats for the entire crew. The crew had not noticed the improvement of the quality of the food; they had merely taken the better food in stride as they licked the plates clean.

At least one of them had done so, begrudgingly. The engineer, a Dug who had grunted some name when introduced had taken to translating Croft's new name as being initials in some obscure Dug dialect that indicate his lack of true parentage and his preference for self-abuse.

Croft had to disabuse him of that translation. Especially after the Dug had tried to bully his new engineering gang member. A young Wookiee named Gungi. The being in the universe that Croft most directly cared about in this ship.

The convincing was not pretty to the other crew members, as the full recovery of the engineer had taken several days.

Days in which the young Wookiee had proved himself better at the job than the Dug. As well as better than the Dug's chosen assistant, a surly Devaronian named Cikatro Vizago.

The Wookiee had been moved to the gunnery department to repair weapons after that. Fortunately, this move had brought him in contact with one of the two gunner's mates, Dani Faygan, a young Zeltron who also has a secret identity.

Senior Constable in the Corellian Security Forces. Croft and Gungi's backup.

The door to the galley opens. Another crew member who had avoided Croft like a plague walks in. He starts to turn around when he sees Croft still in the galley, preparing a late breakfast for he and the Captain.

"Adis," Croft calls out. "Wait. I just want to talk."

The heavyset Tholothian stops. Croft can see the hunch of his shoulders under the ever-present beat-up leather jacket. He slowly turns. His deepset eyes, inset in the unfamiliar graying beard, takes Croft's own face in.

He walks over. "Talk," is all that he says.

"So I guess you survived Raxus."

"Guess I did," Adis says. "Guess you did, too, Croft." His hand goes to his belt. A large knife is near his resting hand. "You going to turn me in, Jedi? I think that the case could be made that you have as much or more to lose as I do."

"Maybe so, Guns. But that ain't why I ain't going to turn you in."

Adis looks at him, curiously. "I am not too convinced that anyone should stay in this war, San. I am not even convinced that I need to stay with the Order. So I am not going to report you."

He smiles. "I would appreciate that you don't tell Lassa of my other occupation. I will tell her eventually, but would like to in my own time."

"Fair enough. Is the Wookiee a Jedi?"

"Yes. He is my Padawan."

Adis smiles. "He is a good gunner. A good mechanic."

The gunner grows serious. "Is Captain Sloane okay?"

"Yeah. She mourned you, but I think that she knew you were alive. She still marked you as 'dead' rather than 'run.' I think that she hoped you found peace, whatever you were doing."

"I regretted breaking her trust. More than anything. But I couldn't fight after my family...."

He breaks off. Croft nods. He smiles. "I am not exactly a model Jedi these days. I am, and I quote, 'insubordinate and obstinate."

"Hell. I knew that from the get-go." He grows serious again . "I do know that you were good for Sloane. She was always a good Captain. She took care of us. But when you came along, I saw her starting to take care of herself."

He smiles. "Hell, I actually caught her humming to herself."

"Hey, Adis...."

"Don't worry, 'Bud.' Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks Adis. Well, better get the Captain's breakfast to her."

Adis smirks. "Picking up where you left off, Croft?"

"Don't know what you're talking about. I'm just feeding my Captain."

"Didn't it start on the _Bucket_ with 'I'm just sparring with the Captain?"

"Well, I was. She kicked my ass every time."

For the first time in a long time, both men laugh. "Be careful of this one. She doesn't spar. She shoots."

"I'll keep that in mind."

XXXXX

Lassa Rhayme lies languidly in bed. She brings her hand from beneath the sheets as her breathing returns to normal.

Her mind flies to the past. She thinks of her life and the many twists and turns.

The unwanted daughter of a Pantoran general's second wife. A general who was forced into exile at various times and returned to power, based upon his mercurial personality. His daughter dragged along after the death of her mother to these various exiles and postings on other worlds.

A father and daughter whose only bonding was over piloting ships and firing weapons.

A relationship that ended when she ran away from the latest exile at age fifteen. An age before she had chosen her family tattoo pattern. She found herself on a smuggling vessel.

Within two years, she had been forced off of the vessel. A difference in opinion over the direction of the vessel.

Something about having to kill a crew member who was about to murder a young Judicial officer.

She had nearly died on the ship before she had managed to escape. To find herself on a ship filled with loving friends. She closes her eyes, as she thinks of her dead.

She shakes the thoughts away. Lately, her thoughts and passions were occupied by a pale, blonde, tattooed bounty hunter. Passions based on mutual survival in deadly times.

Their time together had been measured in hours. Spread out over months.

She shakes her head and stretches. A knock on the bulkhead sends a smile to her face. Another bright spot in the last month.

She thinks of his eyes on hers whenever they came into contact, even when she dressed him down for some smartassed comment in front of the crew. That knowing green gaze, with a hint of mischief among the gold flecks. The other emotions present. Warmth. Overlaid with a full amount of sadness and pain. But no desire for pity.

Of course, a healthy amount of lust in those eyes as well.

She was fairly certain his eyes merely mirrored hers.

The eyes had been on her mind when her hand had crept beneath the covers earlier.

Among other parts.

She groans. _This is how it always starts,_ Lassa thinks for about the fiftieth time. _A nice grin, pretty eyes. A halfway decent ass. I might as well go ahead and shoot him now. It's how it always ends._

Her smile turns rueful. _Little different though. He can actually communicate in something other than a series of Basic grunts and clicks. He can make me laugh in spite of myself._

She swings her legs out of the bed. "Come in. I am in the 'fresher," she calls. She pads naked to the room and closes the door.

Five minutes later, she walks out wearing a short robe. Her new cook stands there with a full service table. She smiles to herself as she sees his eyes track up her bare legs. That warm grin plays over his regular features.

She closes her eyes, as certain warmths well up.

When she opens them, his eyes are laughing. She plays the Captain card. "Wipe that grin off your face, Bud." Her tone is cold, but her eyes show laughter of her own.

He pulls the chair from the table. She sits. He gently pushes the chair forward. She smiles as he places a napkin at her throat; his hands awkward as his skin touches hers.

He pulls a cover off of a tray. Sitting on a plate is a dish that recalls her childhood. A breakfast pastry that graces thousands of Pantoran tables every morning.

One that she hadn't had in nearly ten years. Before she left. Before she abandoned the home of a lesser wife of a soon-to-be-disgraced-again Pantoran general. Her eyes glisten for a moment. She closes them. Re-opens them. Her gaze is steady.

He makes to leave after pouring caf for her. She shakes her head, gesturing to the other seat. He sits and pours his own caf. She cuts the pastry with her fork. Good sign. Fork tender.

She takes a tentative bite. He watches her for her response.

_She is a small girl, her face covered with the glaze from the pastry. Her mother laughs at her, wiping the sweetness off._

Lassa Rhayme looks up at him. She nods gently. The breath that he had been holding escapes.

"I can't keep calling you 'Bud.' What is your name?"

His expression is guarded. "Are you wanted?"

"Not exactly, Captain. But it might not be good for me if certain parties to find out I am here."

Suitably vague.

"Which parties? I need to know."

"Parties that have a love for shitloads of droids. Droids with blasters."

She nods. "Had a few run-ins with those assholes myself." She looks down. He sees the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

Without thinking, he reaches across and touches her cheek. She looks up. He pulls his hand back.

"Sorry, Captain. I'll go."

"Did I dismiss you, Ship's Cook?"

He smirks. Brings one finger to his brow in mock-salute. She matches his smirk.

"You can call me Tal, Captain."

"What is it short for, Tal?"

"Taliesin."

"You work for the Republic, don't you?"

She can see the wheels turning as he forms an answer.

_Do I tell her everything? Is it time?_

"Yes." He doesn't elaborate. She asks nothing else.

"Captain..."

"You can call me Lassa in here, Taliesin."

"When I mentioned the Seps, where did you go?"

Lassa's lip quirks up. It is not a smile. "I went to a Trade Federation frigate where I was standing on a chair with a cord around my neck and my hands bound. Watching two women that I loved as sisters and a man who was my first love, choking their lives out. I was waiting for my turn. I thought that I was going to die that day. I wanted to after watching those two, who loved each other more than anything, die together, as well as that young man."

"The Trade Federation commander, a charmer named Commissar Durd, made me stand there for an hour on that chair. I watched my friends turn black, their eyes staring at me accusingly."

"I very nearly kicked the chair over myself. But my anger kept me standing there."

"We had a freighter. Yeah, we were smuggling, but the Tradies caught us and accused us of piracy because we had some Trade Federation blasters in the cargo. That ugly-ass oversized slug brought us to the flagship."

"You don't have to tell me this, Lassa."

"Yeah, Tal. I do."

"How along ago was this, Lassa?"

"It was before the war. The Trade Federation was starting to feel its oats again after Naboo. Some of the first systems were threatening or had left. Five years ago. I was nineteen."

"After he hanged Chienne, Cona and Laine," she takes a sip of her caf, "he had his droids cut me down. After I absorbed what had happened."

"He sentenced them to die without any trial or Republic appeal. As for me, I survived because he was a scientist. He wanted to see how it would affect me. The death of my friends. I steeled myself and held my reaction to myself. He then told me that I would never see the light of day again in some shithole of a prison."

"From that day. From the day that I escaped his little hole, I vowed that if I was going to be thought of as a pirate--a criminal, I was going to be one. But I would show more mercy and honor than that slug did."

Her eyes pierce through him, as if daring him to say anything.

She looks away first. She smiles. "So what does Taliesin mean? It's old Corellian isn't it?"

"Rampant stallion."

Their shared laughter after Lassa's story of pain rises.

Lassa gets up and walks over to him. She looks down at him. She takes his caf cup and sets it down. She pulls his chin up.

Her bronze eyes lock into his green ones. "I don't know if this means anything, Stallion, but I...."

He silences her with his lips. As their lips move together, his hands move to her back. He pulls her closer as her hands twine in his thick hair. Her tongue gently moves between his lips.

When they come up for air, he places his forehead against her chest. She smiles and kisses him on the top of his head. She pushes him back; looking at him.

Lassa moves her hands to his dress shirt. She opens it, placing her warm hands inside. She feels his heartbeat through his skin. _Not exactly resting heartrate. Not like how calm he looks._ She runs her fingernails through the hairs as she moves to the shirt's collar.

She yanks the shirt over his head; her eyes and her hand immediately tracking to the scar on his right shoulder. She can see the memories play over his face as she replaces the hand with her lips.

He moves his mouth to her smooth throat, his teeth gently nipping. She laughs at the sensation and pulls him from the chair. Her hands track down over his chest to his belt buckle as he tries to kick his boots off. He stumbles and falls to his knees, pulling her with him. Their laughter grows. He finally manages to kick the boots off and across the cabin. She pulls them both to their feet and in one swift movement, yanks his trousers and shorts off.

She looks into his eyes. He realizes with a start that they are of a height. Her hands move down his chest to his waist and then below. He gasps as he feels her fingers down through the curly hair on his belly and near his center. Her eyes grow soft as her fingers trace over the three gouges in the skin of that muscled belly.

He smirks as her hand circles him. He yelps as she grasps him and pulls him to the bed. She pushes him down and lays fully on him. Her mouth touches his chest and begins to follow to where her hands stroke him.

Light blossoms in his mind as he feels her mouth on him. Her warmth engulfs him; she pauses and pushes him back on the bed as he rises up. She smiles up at him as she kisses and then takes him again.

He has a sensation of falling, even though he lies flat on his back. He feels her kissing her way back up to his mouth. He is unable to move as she kisses along his jawline and finally returns to his lips.

Her eyes smile into his. His hands move up over her stomach and her breasts. They snake under the opening of her robe; pulls it down on her shoulders and off. Her face lights up as she sees the expression in his eyes as he drinks her in.

His hands run over the smooth skin of her shoulders and back down to her breasts. His expression is pained as he runs his fingers lightly over the scars on her ribs and her stomach. She gasps as his hands reach her waist and he flips her over. Her arms circle his back. He winces as her nails lance into his back; her teeth closes on his collarbone.

She releases his collarbone with an intake of breath as his mouth plays over her breasts; his tongue centers on her nipples.

He can feel the intake of her breath continue as his mouth moves to her center. His tongue gently teases her entrance. His eyes close as he tastes her. Her cries rise in crescendo and echo in the cabin until she falls, as well.

She pushes him up and pulls his face towards hers. They both gasp at the shared variety of tastes as she kisses him. He looks into her eyes as she pulls him inside of her. Their gentle, rocking counterpoint moves them both to their finish, as light and the noise of their cries open their minds up.

They lay on their sides. Lassa caresses his face. He busies himself kissing her breasts, his hands on her back. "So what does Taliesin, mean, really?"

He is silent, as he continues his ministrations. He pauses. "It means 'between two worlds' in old High Corellian."

She gasps as she feels his teeth. "What is your family name?"

He looks her in the eye. "Croft." At her raised eyebrow, he continues. "It is a version of a name given to children on Mandalore who are unwanted."

Her eyes soften. He looks away; lays back on his back.

He looks down. She knows he has something to say. She prompts him. "What are you, Taliesin Croft? What is your story?"

He closes his eyes. Opens them. "I am a Jedi."

She doesn't react, except to turn on her back and scoot up next to him. She says nothing. He sighs and gets up; starts to climb out of the bed.

She puts her hand on his shoulder, pulling him back down. She moves her head into the crook of his shoulder. She pulls the sheet over them.

"Why are you here?"

"Seeing if I can get any pirates to agree to take letters of marque for the Republic."

She grins. "To be a pirate for the Republic?"

"Essentially, yeah."

She mulls this over. "I am not fond of the Republic. I think they have grown corrupt in the last few years."

"No argument there."

She narrows her eyes at that. "But, as I said, I think they have a tiny bit of moral superiority to the Seppies. Not just my hatred for the Trade Feds, but I have seen some things on the Separatist worlds that have been horrible. There is a lot of darkness in the galaxy."

"I know. It is probably why I am here rather than fighting with a battalion of clones."

He doesn't elaborate. She turns and kisses him on his cheek. "I don't know about fighting for the Republic. You'll have to make it worth my while."

"Ain't I been doing that for the last hour or so?"

She laughs, her bronze eyes twinkling. "More like five minutes."

"Still," she says, "not too bad. But a good contract might pry my knees open a little more often."

"I'll make sure my Masters know." She runs her fingers over his lips, tracing the smirk.

"So, Master Jedi. Wanna attach some more?"

She climbs on top of him. She rises and sinks down on him in one swift motion.

She kisses him tenderly. "Don't push, Taliesin. I have to think of my crew. Their vote decides."

She is sure that the mission is the last thing on his mind.

**Tatooine  
Mos Eisley Cantina  
**

Asajj Ventress looks at the beautiful Theelin bounty hunter as she downs her whiskey. The two women sit in a booth in the bounty hunter's corner of the cantina.

Latts Razzi downs her own drink. "I'm sorry, Asajj. Got too many deals going for myself to back you up. Plus, I am trying to stay off of Separatist sensors. Nearly got canceled, last time I dealt with those bastards."

 _You aren't the only one, dear._ Asajj thinks. Dooku's betrayal is still raw.

"If I could, sweetie, I would."

"I understand, Latts. Just you were my last chance. You're the only one I trust of Boba's merry little band. think I could use some backup on this one."

"Would never think you would ever admit that, sweetie."

Latts' eyes grow hooded. "You got a couple of hours for a little playtime?"

"Tempting, darling, but I need to go. I've got one more lead that has always backed me. Not a bounty hunter so I don't have to worry about measuring anything."

"Yeah. Especially since you seem to be on Boba's shit list."

"Don't have a ruler small enough to measure that little bastard."

Razzi's laughter is bright as the two women embrace. Ventress smiles. "See you around, beautiful."

As Ventress walks out into the bright sunlight, she sends a text to a familiar code.

_Lyrica Secunda. Two days. V. 150K._

**Lyrica Secunda  
The Outer Rim**

Gungi wipes down the counter in the galley. His attention is only partially on his task. His eyes are on his Master, sitting and sipping his caf. Croft's eyes are light years away. Their eyes lock as Croft's comm sounds. Gungi's heart soars as he sees Croft's look of hope. He looks at the locator ID.

Kamino.

He goes to the hatch and exits, closing it behind him, standing guard. Croft masks his signal.

The face that shows above the output is not the one expected, but not unwelcome.

"Hello, Taliesin," Elle Jaquindo says.

"Hey, Knight Jaquindo."

"Got a job for you. Something asymmetrical that might distract you from plowing through whatever pirate has caught your fancy."

Her eyes fill with a slight look of amusement on her otherwise serious face at his blush.

"A Naboo relief team on Z'ambique has been captured. Apparently the Sep commander has taken it upon himself to hold the young woman in charge for a million credit ransom."

"Let me guess. The Order and the GAR are 'stretched too thin' to be of any use."

"Got it in one, Tal," the Chalactan says. He smiles at the familiar expression; an expression from an oversized clone.

"So, what?"

"Do what it is that you do. Sweep in and save the day."

His eyebrows raise at the bitter tone. "So why are you giving me this assignment, Elle? Why isn't Master Ti?"

"Because you are an unmitigated ass, Taliesin Croft."

Her eyes stare into his. He looks away. "I don't disagree," he whispers.

"She can't face you. Your immaturity and inability to face your own stupidity is hurting the person who made you what you are. Who saved my life and made me who I am."

He is silent. "I know. I don't know how to fix it."

"Figure it out, Tal. You may not have enough time."

Her face gives nothing away to his questioning look. She shakes her head.

"I'm sending you details of your mission. May the Force be with you."

She ends the transmission. He stands there looking at the comm.

He hears the hatch open. Gungi walks in; sees his Master. He gives a gentle low.

Without a word he walks over to Croft and puts his arms around his Master. They stand there.

_Master and Padawan._

 

 

 


	5. Whether perhaps--who knows--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dathomiri/Pantoran/Corellian reunions - joyful, violent, and snarky.
> 
> No furniture was actually harmed in the production of this chapter.

**Z'ambique  
  
** Nola struggles to consciousness. She is laying on her side in a puddle of water. As her vision clears fully, she gives a short scream. She realizes that she is face-to-face with her dead Captain, Tone. His amber eyes stare into hers accusingly, the hole between them burned into her memory.

She will see that blackened hole for the rest of her days, no matter how brief they are. She hears a deep laugh from her feet. She struggles against the binders on her wrists; to move away from Tone.

A deep laugh comes from the direction of her feet. She looks at the entrance to her cell. Lok Durd stands there, a silent droid at his side. She remembers her briefing; that this type of droid is a tactical/command droid.

"Ahh, Ms. Vorrserrie," Durd's unctuous voice remarks. "Good to see you awake. I hope that you will not force me to use such extreme training methods again. I would hate to permanently damage you. It might lower your value to certain interested parties."

"You'll be happy to know that I have already received bids of close to the ransom from parties in the Outer Rim, if your government or family can't come through. Apparently there is a shortage of attractive human females among those parties."

She brings herself up to her full height. "Although," he says. "I don't really see what the attraction is for humans. I think that you are all disgusting-looking. Ah, well. No accounting for taste."

She looks at him like he was something to be squashed. Her face tries to approximate an expression that she has seen on her mother, as well as her kinswoman, Padme Naberrie.

An expression known as 'the Look' in her family. One that her father has been on the receiving end of many times. As well as Nola and her siblings.

"You might be careful, General Durd. The Republic will not stand for this mistreatment. It is against every precept and value the Republic holds dear.

The mocking laughter sounds in her ears again. "My dear. Such naïveté. The Republic doesn't care about values and precepts any more. It only cares about winning and holding the Outer Rim systems in thrall."

She purses her lips. "Maybe some systems are like that," she admits, "but mine is not. The Naboo will not let this stand."

"My dear Nola. Naboo only as a small force of security volunteers and a very small local starfighter corps. I know. I helped invade your little world many years ago."

"Security volunteers and starfighters who kicked your fat ass." She closes her eyes. _More the words of a construction contractor's daughter than a Queen's handmaiden or a budding diplomat, No-No._

Durd continues to smile. "Yes, with the help of the Jedi and a bunch of aborigines. I doubt they would find that help again. The Jedi are to few in number and your aborigines are too busy being angry at the Naboo."

"Your defiance amuses me to a certain extent. But it grows tiresome. I will take great pleasure in selling you to Jabba. I am sure that he will find a use for you on his sail barge. Not as a dancer, I think. I think that you are too tall and awkward for that. But there are other roles."

"Open this door and take off these goddamned binders and I'll show you how awkward I am, you grotesque worm."

"Ahh, such intemperate language, my dear. I think that are other occupations on the barge that you can perform. It will be interesting. I have a been a guest on Jabba's barge. Perhaps I might get to visit you in the future."

"In the meantime, I do think that Jabba might pay extra if you were docile when you are transferred. I think some more quality time with my magnaguards will be in order. As a scientist and weapons designer, I am always interested in studying how far our electrostaves can go before they leave marks or stop the heart."

The two expressionless magnaguards walk from behind him. The electrostaves sparking. Nola steels herself, remembering the agony and the spasming from her first session.

"There are others who can take this, my dear. I still have twenty-nine clones who I can do anything with. Even though the research won't be near as instructive, as they are little more than meat droids."

Nola feels the tears well in her eyes. She closes them to hide the marks of her fear. She can feel her hands shaking as the two magnaguards approach her cell door. She spares a glance for the dead clone. The man who is dead for her obstinance.

She can feel the sweat run down her back under the thin cotton shirt that they have left her. She desperately wants to cry out for Durd to _take anyone - anyone but her._

But something stops her. She thinks of her foster-sister, Dani Faygan. A girl nearly nine years her senior. An outsider who came to her family home as a favor to her father, whose enemies had marked his family for death.

A girl who had stood up for her when the bullies had come for Nola, for her awkwardness, her sarcastic rejoinders. She had seen the determination in Dani's face - a determination to protect Nola either by giving a beating or taking a beating.

She turns to Durd. "You will not torture any of my soldiers, Durd. You will not touch them. If you have anything to say or do, you will come to me," she says, steel growing in her spine. She stands straight; thinking of the owner of a bruised red face holding her and wiping her tears.

Durd smiles. "Interesting. The little girl has some spine. Maybe that will give me another path to explore as far as ways to break humans. Especially idealistic, spoiled little brats who think that they are better than others."

"Durd, I don't think that I am better than you. I know it for a fact."

His smile fades from his rubbery face. His hands clasp over his substantial middle. "That's General Durd, to you, bitch." The urbane appearance of politeness is dropped as his accent changes.

"Nope. Durd. 'General' indicates a mark of respect that I don't feel for you, you murdering son of a bitch."

He makes a motion to the two droids. She sees them approach the cell. She closes her eyes as she feels the bite of the staves.

She opens her eyes and remains on her feet. She can feel her teeth clench, but she does not scream. She sees Dani's face, her laughing purple eyes, hears her musical laughter.

Nola is calm. She falls to her knees as her muscles clench, but she remains calm as she forces herself to look at Durd.

The tactical droid watches the General and the young woman. A red light can be seen near his photoreceptors as he watches.

**Free Vessel Opportunity  
The Outer Rim  
Lyrica Secunda**

Lassa Rhayme traces her fingers over the back of the man lying next to her. She smiles as she sees his skin quiver slightly under her fingers as they play over his ribs.

Her fingers ghost over his scars, both new and old. She replaces her fingers with her lips; playing gently over the scars that she has given him in the last few hours. She starts as he rolls over. His eyes open and she is pinned by his gaze.

There is a hint of a smile in his eyes, but it is quickly replaced by..... something.

She reaches down and captures his lips with hers; her tongue gently exploring, dueling. He responds, but she can tell that his mind is light-years away.

In the weeks since she had taken him to her bed and in her arms, she has felt the light that swims around him. She smirks. _Damn Jedi. Now he's got me talking like one._

Lassa sobers as she thinks about the distant looks in his eyes that he gets after they have made love. Of pain and even fear playing over that green gaze.

She doesn't ask. She doesn't even know if she wants to know. The Jedi is such a contradiction. On the one hand, he is the sarcastic, cynical Corellian, who makes her laugh and emit other noises.

Then she sees the tenderness with which he holds her at night. She sees the joy that he gets from teaching his young charge - the earnest Wookiee, who she has learned is his apprentice - his _Padawan_ as Croft called him.

The Pantoran knows that Croft is not too far removed from his own apprenticeship. She senses that this war has made him in more ways than he will admit.

They are of an age, and both have experienced pain and adversity. Their chosen (well, at least for her) lives demand a certain amount of pain.

She doesn't get the idea that this is a good thing. She senses the pain that has tempered him like new forged steel. A powerful weapon.

One that he does not want to be.

She shakes her head, smiling ruefully again. _Next, I'll be contemplating my navel and meditating._

She decides to take another path, as she climbs on top of him. She feels him respond, his lips caressing her throat.

He flips her and begins to kiss his way down her body. As he reaches her center, her mind is undone and she thinks no more of the distant look in his eyes.

As the ship's night gradually recedes, meshing with the dawn of the spaceport, she awakens to those green eyes staring into the distance as he stands at the port.

She sighs. "Hey, Cook. What's going on with you? she asks. "You seem like you are somewhere else. You have been since yesterday."

He looks over at her. He smiles. "Nope. All here, Skipper."

"Come back to bed. You're kind of warm." She holds up the covers. "Don't know, Cap." He smirks. "Don't know if your crew is really going to be happy with cheese sandwiches because their cook is giving the Captain a seeing-to."

Her face falls. She nods. "Okay. They come first. Much as I really don't want you to get out of bed, you need to feed them."

He smiles warmly. He walks over to the bed and climbs in. Her eyes narrow, but she allows him to. "It's a good thing that I take care of my Captain, as well as my crew."

She raises an eyebrow. "Always prepared, darlin'. Breakfast was made last night. All my assistants have to do is warm it up. I figure that we have a couple of hours to lay here." She starts to speak. He puts his fingers over her lips. "Even got the morning watch already taken care of."

"So who are your assistants? I don't recall authorizing that."

"Adis and Gungi."

"Great. One who probably can't resist sampling and the other that they don't make hairnets big enough for."

"Relax, Captain. They'll be fine."

Lassa Rhayme looks down. "Thank you for taking care of my crew, Taliesin," she says. "They are my family."

He smirks. "A family that could vote you out at any time." He softens. "It's what I do, babe," he says quietly.

"Who takes care of you, Tal?" she asks.

Croft looks down. "It doesn't work that way, Lassa."

She pulls herself out of his arms. "What the hell do you mean, Croft? You are a member of my crew, too."

He shakes his head. "I'm fine, Lassa."

"I don't buy it. You've been looking like you don't know what the hell you are going to do all day." 

She looks him in the eye and places her hand on his cheek. "Even when you were making my eyes roll back in my head; when you were making my skin scream, I could feel that something was bothering you."

He smiles. "Ever considered becoming a Jedi?"

"Nope. I'm not into vows of poverty and chastity. Not to mention silence and obedience."

"I think you have us confused with someone else. Most of those, I have a problem with."

"So what is it, Croft?"

He remains silent. He reaches down and takes a nipple into his mouth. She draws a sharp breath, then pushes him away. "Oh, no, buddy boy. You're not going to distract me that way. Let's hear it."

"I can't, Lassa. Not to you."

She sits up, her eyes flashing bronze fire. "Oh, so I am not good enough for the great and noble Jedi to talk to? I am just pirate scum that's just good for a roll in the sack with?"

"You son of a bitch. You're not just in my bed because you are such a great lay. In fact, you're only kind of decent."

"Didn't sound like I was just 'decent,' earlier," he says darkly.

"I am not just pirate scum, Croft. I come from a family with a long and noble heritage on Pantora. My father is a respected and skilled General." Her eyes contemplate her middle. "Even though we apparently have an inability to keep our mouths shut and an ability of pissing people off now and again who are in power."

His eyes grin at that. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

She smiles at him, taking some of the sting out of her words. "But that's beside the point, Jedi. I brought you to my bed because you are able to talk about things that my other lovers can't even fathom. I enjoy your mind, as much as your cock."

He grins ruefully. "There are many people in this galaxy who would say that they are one and the same.

"Well at least you haven't given it a name." Their laughter is brief, but releases the tension.

"So tell me, Taliesin Croft. What's wrong?"

He closes his eyes. "It's not you, Lassa. I just don't feel like I can get too close to anyone. Already lost a lot."

She runs her fingers through his hair, he continues. "I've been given an assignment. An assignment to rescue a young woman from a place that I spent a good many months trying to forget. A garden spot that nearly did for me, three other Jedi, including a young girl who I am probably closer to than anyone in the universe, and three battalions of the finest men in the Republic."

"Just trying to figure out if I can ask you for help."

Lassa contemplates his words, as she idly nibbles his shoulder. She looks at the scar on his shoulder and the knife wound on his chest, near his right lung.

She puts her forehead against the shoulder. "I don't know if I can, Tal. I have a crew that I am responsible for. Can't exactly go around saving the universe. They have to eat."

"I know. I am going to have to find another way."

She brightens. "The reason we are on Lyrica Secunda, is that I have received a message from contact who has a job for me. Not a huge payout, but one that might allow me to be a bit altruistic."

"Lassa, I..."

"Hush, sweetie. She should be here soon. Lay back down. Let's get some sleep." She lays her head on his chest. Her legs twine in his. She can feel her breath against his chest, gently moving the hairs near the scar there.

As the pirate's breathing evens; as his eyes start to close, his Force-sense nags at him with a feeling that he tries to place.

XXXXX

Asajj Ventress walks into Lassa's usual docking bay. The quarterdeck watch nods at her as she enters the hatch. Lassa has standing orders that she is to be admitted. As she walks through the hatch, she sees one of the watch, a beautiful purple-skinned Twi'lek eyeing her. Ventress smiles at the woman as she passes. The Twi'lek smiles back, as if remembering. Asajj winks at her.

She sobers as she thinks of the odd partnership she has with Lassa Rhayme.

A partnership born of the pirate saving her life during a job that went sour. Of pulling her ship in after a battle. Of healing her wounds and repairing her ship. Of helping her recover an object. An object that allowed her to complete her job.

It only took a few weeks for the partnership to grow more intimate; of time spent in passion and a bit of healing. Passion and healing with no strings attached.

The bounty-hunter's full, dark lips ghost a smile as she thinks of the coming business meeting; the tattoos at the corner rising. As she comes closer to the captain's cabin, she nods at the passing watch change. Her pale eyebrows quirk upward at the smirks present on the faces of the crew members.

She stops as the nagging feeling she has felt in her Force-sense comes clear and assaults her. A sensation and signature that she has not felt in nearly three years. Memories come flooding back to her in a rush. Memories from streets of Corellia. A tall Togruta Jedi Master. Her bearded thug of a Corellian Padawan. The wounds that she had received, as well as those she had inflicted. The anger of her Master at her failure to bring Corellia to the Separatist cause.

Her eyes flash as she realizes that the sensation comes from the other side of the door. She punches the door switch in fury.

XXXXX

Croft tenses in the bed. He pushes Lassa away without touching her. She involuntarily meeps in surprise. A sound that turns into an indignant yelp of anger as the two Force-users stare at each other. Croft feels his own anger grow in recognition.

Asajj Ventress's pale silver-blue eyes flash in anger. For half a second, Croft doesn't recognize her, the pale blonde hair where there had been none throwing him.

Ventress and he stare at each other. He can feel the examination from her in the Force. _Yes, dear,_ he thinks, _no Padawan braid._

Her saber flashes in her hand and ignites. "Asajj, no, wait!" he hears from Rhayme as she strides forward. Ventress flies backward as he lifts his hands. Her saber strikes the dresser as she goes sprawling.

Asajj smirks as Croft tries to untangle his legs from the pirate's. She jumps up and strides forward again. She brings her saber up as she closes on the bed.

Ventress unaccountably hesitates for half a second. Croft feels her start as something nags at her Force-sense.

Croft manages to push Lassa off of the bed as he dives to the deck. In the background of his hearing, Lassa's voice cuts through him. "Goddammit, Croft, stop it. Both of you!"

Just as Ventress's saber slices into the bed.

He sees the assassin duck as a metallic whir rushes by her head. An arcane metal cylinder flies into the his hand and ignites. An emerald blade dips toward her yellow.

A smirk fllows over her features just as he feels the draft on his middle.

"Glad to see that you have learned a little jar'kai, Thug. Although your shoto is a little small," she snarks.

He grins. "Some people don't think so," he says as he swings his saber towards her. She backpedals while parrying the swing.

He hears a curse as Lassa struggles to get out of the tangled covers on the deck. The cursing changes languages as the two parried blades score along the bulkhead near the ruined dresser.

Both combatants move towards the center of the cabin, where the floor opens up. Their parries and strikes sound throughout the cabin.

Ventress smiles. "You've improved, Thug, since we last dueled."

"Didn't do so badly the last two times. The end result was that you tucked your tail and ran."

He swings the saber from below. Her yellow blade intersects. He can feel the heat from the energy discharge on his legs. As they struggle to overcome each other, Ventress continues. "Really, I didn't notice. I was too busy laughing hard at your new career as an aircar hood ornament."

"Yeah, laughing too hard with two of my saber strikes on your ribs. All I saw while lying on that hood was your ass receding in the distance."

"Did you like what you saw, Thug?"

"Not too bad. Little frigid for my taste."

She breaks the saber lock and swings at his head again. His blade is there.

Both of them can sense that Lassa is free and standing. Her anger hits both like a wave. "Would you two fucking idiots stop this shit? Stand down."

They both ignore her as they can feel their anger rising again.

Anger tempered by something else. A feeling that they neither can describe as they duel.

The hairs on his legs stand up as Ventress' blade tip swings towards his middle. He pulls his middle back; he barely keeps his balance.

He feels the heat. His anger flashes. Especially as he sees her smirk.

"Hey!"

"Primary tenet of jar'kai, darling. Disable the smaller blade."

"Yeah, but you might make Lassa cry."

A snort and palpable eyeroll is heard and felt from behind. "Not bloody likely if you two idiots keep this up."

Ventress swings at his head on the follow-though. Again he parries and ripostes. On the fourth strike attempt, after more paint is destroyed, both Ventress and Croft are struck by the unidentifiable wave that has been nagging their Force-senses.

Ventress gasps. The feeling is one of warmth. Warmth she hasn't felt in years. She gets the sensation of a pair of dark eyes smiling at her as she succeeds.

For Croft, it is a sense of that warmth and smiling dark eyes looking down on his younger, smaller self as he lifts him from the floor where he stands.

_Ky Narec._

Their blades begin to sink as they stare at each other.

One second before Lassa Rhayme opens fire on them with two blasters.

They can each feel the other sinking into darkness. Their blades cut off as they fall from nerveless fingers. Croft and Ventress both feel a sense of disapproval from those smiling, encouraging dark eyes.

Lassa Rhayme shakes her head angrily as she looks at the two warriors lying on the deck. She looks around at the damage to her cabin. The lightsaber strikes in the bulkhead paint. The destroyed dresser and bed.

Her eyes return to the two figures crumpled on the floor. Her eyes soften as she looks at them. As she contemplates what both mean to her.

She sighs and throws the two blasters onto the ruined bed.


	6. Today of all days a miracle will take place-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories are revealed. Alliances are forged. Plans are made. At least one member of our intrepid band makes a walk of shame.

**Free Vessel Opportunity  
** **The Outer Rim  
** **Lyrica Secunda**

Taliesin Croft climbs up from the depths of pain. The Force screams at him as he ascends. His mind flashes over the last three years of his life. Of two padawans lying on the sands of an arena on Geonosis, their short lives snuffed out. Of a third leaving her left hand lying near them.

Of a clone coughing his life out in a medbed on a forsaken world. Of a Jedi Master's guts tumbling out on Tal's shoulders as he made his way from a city on that same world.

Of two innocents, a man and a woman, transfixed by Force lightning on beautiful world. A world as rotten to its core as any it claimed to be fighting against.

Of the pride of a young girl as she fought her way to save her men. Of a holo of that same young girl, her eyes downcast, her hands bound, surrounded by Temple and Coruscant Guards as she prepares for the fight of her life.

His eyes open into the harsh overhead lights of a cargo hold on the Opportunity. He realizes that his hands are bound behind his back.

His Force sense is muted. _Guess the cuffs can't stifle the pain._

As he comes more awake from the affects of the stun blast, he realizes that he is dressed as he was during the battle.

With the exception of a small square of cloth draped over his middle. In spite of his situation, he grins as she sees Lassa Rhayme's sense of humor.

He hears a groan from a meter or so over. The darkside user, Ventress lies at a right angle to him.

She sees him looking at her. Her piercing silver-blue eyes narrow. She smirks at his attire. She is clothed as she was during the battle, in her leather tabard and trousers; her high collared shirt.

"So, Thug. Lassa has stooped pretty low to have to fuck a Jedi."

"Nobody said she 'had to,' darling," he says. "Maybe she just wasn't getting what she needed from elsewhere."

Her eyes flash briefly, then are calm. They both struggle to seated positions.

"Oh, please, Croft. Don't 'darling' me. You are no Obi-wan Kenobi. Drop the flirting."

"Although your lightsaber work truly has improved," she says with a serious look. "You weren't bad on Corellia, though."

"Thanks."

"Pity you decided to be a Jedi, Thug. Guess you bought into Ti's brainwashing."

He feels the warmth on his face. "Leave it alone, Ventress."

"Why? I only speak the truth."

"You don't know what the hell that you're talking about." His voice is as cold as she has ever heard it. "I wouldn't be talking about Masters too much. I watched yours try to murder two innocents. I barely got them out of there alive."

She sees his eyes look at the deck. "I know, Thug." Her own eyes catch his. The green gaze widens as her eyes tear. "He murdered my people. My sisters. I gave him everything of myself. He cast me off like an old cloak."

Croft explodes. "He is a fucking Sith Lord, Ventress. What the hell did you expect?"

"Who the hell are you to judge, Jedi? I watched your Order on Coruscant abandon that young Togruta to the Republic's mercies. She was about to be killed for your Order's 'good name." In spite of the Force-suppressant cuffs, she can feel his anger and pain growing. Her eyebrows raise.

"You have no right to speak about her, Ventress. She was an innocent."

"Yes, and I was the only one who tried to help her."

He falls silent. His anger gone. In its place is an unspeakable pain. "I know," he whispers. "I wasn't there for her."

Croft knows that he is broadcasting that there is more in his Force-sense.  He shakes his head. _Not exactly wanting to share my deepest secrets with someone who was doing her best to carve important pieces of my flesh off as a trophy._

She shakes her head. "So how do you know Ky Narec?"

"Don't really know him all that much."

"Well, your Force-signature was practically swimming in a resonance of his."

"He was in 'acquisitions,' apparently for the Jedi for awhile." He looks at her. "He found me, as well as another Force-user in an orphanage on Corellia. I remember bits and pieces. He had heard we were Force-users; took us off their hands." He grins. "Mind you, this was an orphanage for 'gifted' children, but they weren't equipped to handle two Force-users."

"He brought me to the Temple when I was five. The other Force user was eight."

"Old for the Jedi," she muses.

"Yep. I don't think that they really wanted to take the eight-year old, but Ky convinced the Jedi to take both of us."

"He then left to explore. Never saw him again."

"What happened to the eight-year old?"

"He never really fit in. They eventually expelled him before he could take the Trials." Croft's eyes grow distant. "Nearly did for me, too. My Master argued for both of us."

He looks her in the eye. He sees a tiny bit of warmth in the silver-blue sharpness. "What about you? How do you know Ky?"

"Well, he crashed on the world that I was a slave on. Weequay pirates killed my master. Ky took care of them and took me in. He raised me as his apprentice after seeing me use the Force."

"Near as I can tell, I was about five or six. Don't know."

She swallows and pauses. "He trained me for ten years. We fought the warlords on that world. We tried to bring light to the world." Her eyes flash. "Ky felt abandoned, because the Order never came looking for him. Probably killed him in the end, not having anyone but his Padawan to back him up against those same goddamned Weequay."

"When he died; I had no one. So I used the training he gave me to defeat the warlords and pirates on that hellhole."

"I ruled that world as best I could. I was so damned angry."

She cuts off. "So why are you here, Croft?"

"A spiritual retreat."

Her laughter is genuine. "Boy, the Order has truly relaxed its standards for a retreat, I bet."

She grows serious and looks at him, her eyes flashing fire. "Lassa Rhayme is someone who is very dear to me, Jedi. If you toy with her, or betray her, I will find you and cut you in half. I can promise you that I will stuff that 'brain' of yours in your mouth, first."

He allows his own eyes to match her expression. "Not in the habit of hurting innocents, Ventress, in spite of what you think of Jedi. But I don't take kindly to threats from someone who has already fallen and killed innocents."

"Besides," he says, wistfull, "I think she can pretty well take care of herself."

"True," she admits with her own wistful smile.

Her expression grows fierce again, but she ignores the last statement; does not rise at him. . Instead, she relies on her own righteous indignation. "They had no problem abandoning my Master to his fate. They didn't even fucking come looking for him."

"They did look. They declared him lost."

"They didn't look hard enough!" she screams.

Croft comes closer to her. "If you want me to judge you as an individual, then perhaps you should show me the same courtesy."

She stands. "I don't care what you think of me, Jedi. Stay the hell away from me. I have a job to do."

"So do I. I have a feeling that we are after the same thing. I was just about to tell Lassa about it when you barged in."

"Tell me about what, Cook?"

They both turn at her voice. Ventress smiles at her. "About a job opportunity. A paying job. Not some altruistic bullshit that the Jedi will lead you on."

"I don't know Asajj. I was ready to help him out after taking your pay. No innocent deserves to be held by Separatists."

"I know," Ventress says, her blue eyes looking into Lassa's bronze ones. "It's why I took the job." She continues to lock eyes with both of them. "I have to eat."

Lassa nods at her and changes the subject. "Do you think that you two idiots can work together without lightsabering each other?"

Croft and Ventress look at one another. "Perhaps," Ventress says.

"As long as she keeps her saber away from my privates, we're good," Croft says.

Lassa smirks. "I am kind of fond of those myself. I will be the only one who separates you from them on my ship." Her expression softens. "Just as fond of them and their owner as I am of you, Asajj."

The bounty hunter nods. "Fair enough, Lassa. Let's talk business."

"Yep. The tub's waiting."

Lassa releases her cuffs and puts her arm through the former Sith's and turns to walk out.

"Hey, what about me? Don't I get time in the tub as well?" Croft asks.

"Nope. Taking all of the damage to my cabin out of your pay. Until I have a repaired bed, you can sleep in the gunnery spaces. We'll talk after you've had a chance to think about your sins, Taliesin Croft."

"What the hell did I do? She attacked me. She's the one that gets the bubble bath?"

"She has seniority."

He doesn't miss the bounty hunter's smirk. Croft looks at them through narrowed eyes. "What about these damned cuffs? Where are my clothes?"

"Oh, you're very resourceful. I am sure that there are many ways that you can get out of your cuffs." She smiles. "As for your clothes, they will be in your new quarters. I am sure that your walk there will raise some of the crew's morale."

"Oh, by the way. Your apprentice was sent off with Adis and the gunnery crew to get some supplies. He was sent off this morning, before Asajj came on board. Should be back in about four hours or so. Think they delegated breakfast to the Secura twins."

Croft nods. He curses to himself as he thinks of who else is on the gunnery crew.

_Well, there goes help from Dani, as well. Of course, she would be the most amused by this._

At that, both women exit the hold. His eyes widen as the rectangle of cloth floats out behind them.

 _Damned pirates and bounty hunters that have to have the last word_ , he thinks. He sighs and starts to look around the hold.

**Two Hours Later**

Croft backs up against the bulkhead. His thumb and forefinger grasp a tiny piece of wire. He closes his eyes in concentration and gently pulls.

He curses as the wire pops out of its conduit. To join the other four pieces on the floor.  _Should've paid more attention to Baldrick's pickpocketing lectures._ _Of course, been kinda busy fighting a war to keep the skills up._

He lowers himself down the wall, ignoring the scratches on sensitive areas from the open electrical panel. His finger connects with one of the wires on the deck. He pushes.

His brain lights up when he realizes that he has pushed the wire into his index finger. He pushes the pain away; lifts the wire up. Two minutes later, the Force cuffs have fallen to the deck.He winces as he pulls the wire from his finger. As he turns to the hatch, it opens.

The beautiful crimson face of Dani Faygan stands there. Her eyes and face are marked with a Tano-level smirk.

She looks down at his middle. "Parts are a bit shiny, Bard."

"I thought you would be on the gunnery department's walkabout to the nearest pastry shop," he says. "Their 'supply' run."

"Nope. Somebody needed to mind the store. They're bringing me back something. You know I have to keep my energy up."

"So how did you find me?"

"I saw Lassa all chummy with that pale bitch who cut me back on Corellia. I made myself scarce. Lassa announced in no uncertain terms that no one was to help you. Especially with any clothes. On pain of instant spacing."

"So, as Drop implied before, I used my super-secret, high speed Zeltron powers to sniff you out."

"You checked all of the cargo bays, didn't you?"

"I'll never tell."

"So how long were you at the door?"

"About an hour. I wanted to see if all that Jedi shit was good for something besides parlor tricks."

"You've never had any complaints about my parlor tricks before," he says.

"Well, I was just hoping they were good for something other than that."

"Great. You're my back-up?"

She assumes a hurt expression. "Damned good backup, too. Who else would spend their time looking through all the cargo holds on a CR-90 for their principal? Especially when they had an offer of quality time with a couple of Twi'lek twins."

"The navigator? And her brother? I'm impressed. Not surprised, but impressed."

"You're just jealous because you couldn't get anywhere with them."

"Enough with the banter, Daaineran. Go get my clothes."

Her smile grows mischievous. "Nope. Gotta maintain my cover as a loyal crewmember of the Blood Bone Order." She turns and walks out of the hatch.

"Dani!" comes the plaintive cry from the cargo hold.

"You could use some humility, bud _,"_ he hears as she leaves.

XXXXX

Adis, Gungi, and the rest of the gunnery crew walk through the entry port. Gungi holds a bag with Dani's 'supplies.' Their laughter fills the air as Adis teases the young Wookiee. "You sweet on my other gunner's mate, Fuzzy?"

Gungi's derisive hooting makes them laugh all the more. He feels a toothy grin spread across his face.

Their laughter dies as they sense the silence in the crew's lounge. A silence broken by whispers and muted laughter.

Adis' eyes grow large. He immediately places his hands over the young Wookiee's eyes. Gungi manages to scoot his face aside enough to see his Master walking through the passageway.

His head held high, wearing his dignity. _Well, injured dignity._

And nothing else.

Gungi's eyes roll before they are covered by the overprotective gunner.

Before they are, he sees the Twi'lek navigator and her brother look at one another, smile and nod. He sees credits change hands.

Gungi hears someone murmur. "Hope he doesn't go into the galley like that."

He passes the galley door. The crew begins to follow Croft. He enters the gunnery spaces. He turns around as if noticing the crew for the first time. He stands in the door. "Everybody get a look?" he asks, his voice cold. He closes the door.

Gungi smirks. _That's my Master,_ he thinks.

XXXXX

The moans coming from the bounty hunter's mouth split the air of the 'fresher. Her eyes are closed. She slips further into the water of the large tub. Her breathing relaxes as she falls back against the front of the Pantoran pirate.

"Little lower, there. Right there, darling," the pale woman says.

She feels the smirk against the back of her head as Lassa obeys. As she digs the thumbs of both hands into either side of Asajj's spine. Her thumbs massage the knots from the bounty hunter's muscles.

"You got me with other talents, dear. But those thumbs of yours keep me coming back."

Lassa smiles again. "Nice to know I still got it."

"So where did you learn that?" the Dathomiri asks.

"During my stint in that Trade Federation prison, they got on a rehabilitation kick. My counselor thought that I needed a marketable skill if I did ever get out of the hole. He hooked me up with private lessons. Very valuable."

"Did you ever actually use them to earn money?"

"Nope. After the final lesson, I knocked out the instructor, took her ID pass and escaped." She smirks. "I think that ended the rehabilitation initiative."

Asajj laughs like she hasn't in many years. Lassa notices. "You have a nice laugh. Glad I get to hear it."

Asajj sobers. "Lassa, why are you letting a Jedi stay on your ship?"

"He intrigues me. He isn't what I pictured a Jedi being," the pirate says, her beautiful face thoughtful.

"What is he doing here? Why is he here?" Ventress probes, "Besides," she says with a smirk, "intriguing the Captain?"

"Recruiting pirates to raid the Sep convoys."

Asajj is silent. "Lassa, please be careful. I don't trust the Jedi. They are a corrupt body."

Lassa chuckles. "I don't think Croft would disagree with you right now. I get the idea that he is not exactly in their favor."

Ventress nods. "That's the thing. There are individual Jedi who I sense nothing but good in, even," she looks down, "when they were trying to kill me." She closes her eyes as she sees a pair of laughing blue eyes over a ginger beard, as a Coruscanti accent teased and flirted with her. Or an impossibly young Togruta, in impossibly revealing hunting attire trading blows and quips as she managed to fight Ventress to a standstill.

_Even that bantha of a Master of the girl and former apprentice of Kenobi._

She shakes her head as she tamps down the memories of the past. "But the Order itself," she continues, "I think that they are corrupt and only concerned with their place in the Republic."

"I don't know, Asajj," Lassa says. "I have only known him a short time, but I am a pretty good judge of character. I don't get that from Taliesin."

Asajj lets the rejoinder forming on her lips die before she speaks. She smirks instead. "Judge of character, darling? Does that include all of the lovers that you have had to shoot after they have crossed you? Have you already painted a target on his admittedly memorable ass?"

Lassa says nothing, but pushes the bounty hunter's head under the water. There is splashing for a good few minutes as the bout ends in a long kiss.

Ventress lays her head back on the pirate's chest. She regains her breath. "Seriously, Lassa. Please be careful if you do agree to this scheme. In spite of what you think of Croft's character, it could end badly for you and your crew."

"I know. I am very careful with their lives."

"I know you are, darling," Ventress says. Her eyes narrow as a slight buzz lights her Force sense. The door opens.

Taliesin Croft, now clothed, but barefoot, walks in with two trays of food. Asajj stares at him as his eyes run over her body. "Like what you see, Thug?"

He smiles, but doesn't rise to the snark. "Not bad. Brought some food for you both. Thought you could use some."

He sits the trays on the low table near the tub, within reach of the pirate and bounty hunter. He pulls a bottle of Whyren's from his back pocket and pours a healthy slug in each glass.

Including a third. "Is that from my liquor cabinet, Croft?" Lassa asks darkly.

"Nope. My own bottle."

Lassa softens. "Okay, Cook. You've earned your way partially back into my good graces. If you can behave, you can enjoy the tub." She looks at Ventress. The bounty hunter rolls her eyes, but nods.

As Croft lowers himself into the tub, he can feel the eyes of both women on him. "If I hadn't just shown everything that I have to a large portion of the crew, I would be more modest."

"Why start now, Tal?" Lassa says, her bronze eyes laughing. "Did you get any propositions?"

"Not exactly. Your navigator and her brother seemed have predatory looks on their faces."

He sips his whisky, as Asajj and Lassa fix plates from the array of food. "I get the sense that you didn't let me in the tub to admire my body."

"You would be right, Thug," Asajj says. "We need to talk about this job."

Croft waves his hand. A datapad floats in and settles in Ventress' hand. Lassa's eyebrows raise.

She continues to look thoughtfully at Croft, as Asajj begins to read the datapad. Lassa finally looks at the pad over her shoulder.

"That's everything I know about Z'ambique. As you can see, it is a hole, but an utterly useless one. The people seem to hate everyone who are not from the 'Gift,' as they call it. The three genders don't even associate with one another except to procreate."

He smiles wistfully. "I am not even going to mention the respiratory ailment that any offworlder will get after about two weeks there. I had heard that Phase II armor has better filters, as do new breathing masks."

Ventress draws a deep breath, as she thinks about the task before them. Croft's eyebrows raise at her expression. "Ventress?" he asks.

"This seems like a very small task force to take a planet and hold it. Who is the Sep commander?"

Croft looks Lassa in the eye. "Lok Durd. Haven't heard much from him since he escaped from the Republic a few months back."

Lassa's eyes show no expression except for a bit of extra bronze fire. Asajj touches her face. Lassa's eyes say, _I'll tell you later._

Asajj's eyes narrow. "I think he is making his own play. Small task force, plus the ransom demand. That's not Sep doctrine."

She lets her anger bubble to the surface. "Dooku always suspected that he was playing his own game, on some occasions. But, he was an effective weapons designer and scientist."

"Yeah, I've personally seen how good of a 'scientist' he is," Lassa says angrily. She closes her eyes.

Ventress turns and brings the pirate's head to her shoulder. Lassa lays there for a moment, then shakes the bounty hunter off.

Ventress returns her gaze to the Jedi. "Might go in our favor. Especially with three Force-users."

Croft's eyes flash. "What do you mean, three, Ventress?"

"I sense three of us here. I assume you have a Padawan. Or backup."

"You keep him out of it. Don't go including him in your plans. I'll be the one to include him, if anyone."

"We'd stand a better chance if he was with you and I, Croft. Don't be sentimental."

Croft starts to stand up. "I'm not sentimental, darling. But you stay the hell away from my Padawan."

He starts as Ventress reaches up before he can stand and places her palm on his chest. She doesn't push. She strokes her fingers gently over his chest, keeping her palm on his heart. "Peace, Taliesin." His eyes widen at the use of his first name. "It is your choice, but I am just presenting the best option."

He sits back and brings his breathing under control. She sees his anger cool. "Go on."

"The three of us could get in under the sensors in my _Banshee_. Get in and get out, with three Force users, we could grab the hostage and get out."

"There are still Republic troopers being held there as well."

"Sorry, Jedi. Not my problem."

"Better make them your problem, dear, if you want my help."

She rolls her eyes. "Damned do-gooder." She turns to Lassa. "We'll get them out," the pirate says without prompting. "The _Opportunity_ will be your cover, as well, to pull your asses out of the fire."

"Well, what about it Croft? Do we get your apprentice?"

"I will ask him. He has to agree to risk his ass, Ventress."

She smiles. "Wouldn't have it any other way, darling."

Lassa and Ventress rise. They pull towels to them from the shelf. Croft rises as well. "Time to turn in, I think," Lassa says as she dries Ventress' back.

Ventress tosses her towel to the Jedi. Lassa looks at Croft. "Guess you better find your bunk, Cook."

One eyebrow raises. A look of puzzlement crosses his features. "Uhh, I thought that all was forgiven."

"Nope. That was for the bath. You are still on probation for my bed."

She turns and brings Ventress' lips to hers.

Croft sighs as he gathers his clothes. Without a word, he grabs the bottle and takes it with him.

**Next Morning**

Gungi curses under his breath as he attempts to fit a new bladder into a turbolaser's Tibanna gas tank. He drops the tank and gives the Wookiee equivalent of a sigh.

He had felt the additional Force-user when he had come back to the ship. There was tension, but he didn't sense danger from his Master. _I trust him. He would tell me if there was danger._

His whiskers twitch in exasperation. _Unless he was doing that overprotective Master thing and trying to keep me from any danger._

The young Wookiee grins as he thinks of how lucky he is to have Croft as a Master. An unconventional Jedi, from whom he has already learned so much. The first one in my age group to be chosen.

His eyes fall in sadness as he thinks of the last couple of months. The pain that he can sense in his Master over the loss of Ahsoka. He smiles as he remembers his Gathering, of the adventures that had ensued. The quiet strength of Ahsoka as she protected them, but also taught them so much. How she had bared her blade with Kenobi and all of them to celebrate their achievement.

How she had taken each one of them aside and hugged them. Whispering how proud she was of them for their bravery.

He remembers talking to her when he found out he was selected by Croft as his Padawan. She had smiled when he had told her, his excitement so evident on his face and in his voice.

_He will be a good Master, Gungi. He is patient, but can be a smartass. Don't hesitate to give it right back to him, especially if you think he might be wrong. He respects that._

The young Togruta's blue eyes had grown sad. _Please watch out for him, Gungi. He is very important to me._

Gungi feels a warm presence enter the room. Dani Faygan ruffles the fur on his head as she walks by on the way to the caf machine. "Hey Big Man, how's it going?" she says.

He gives a non-committal grunt as he feels the rest of his fur ruffle of its own accord. His people's equivalent of a blush.

He shakes his head as he tries to figure out what the strange feelings are coursing through his mind.

Of why he feels warm all the time that he is around her.

Another sensation overwhelms the warmth as three other presences enter the room. He barks in welcome to his Master, as he walks in with the Captain and someone else.

His Master's face is grave. Gungi's eyes grow wide as he sees the other person in the room. They flash in recognition from his studies of wanted posters and known Separatist officers.

His lightsaber flies into his hand, the familiar wooden hilt slapping into his palm; the green blade igniting. He brings himself into a defensive stance.

He sees the smirk on the woman's face as she ignites her own saber. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dani's hand move towards the blaster on her left hip.

His Master gives a subtle shake of his head at the Zeltron. Gungi notices her leave through another hatch. He interposes himself between the two lightsabers. "Stand down, Padawan," he says in a low voice.

Gungi is only now beginning to learn human and near-human expressions. The one in Croft's eyes is one of gratitude.

Gratitude mixed with pride and love.

Gungi sheathes his blade. The Seppie, Ventress, _that's her name,_ continues to hold hers ignited.

Croft rolls his eyes. "Come on, Ventress. What the hell do you expect?"

Ventress smirks and deactivates her saber. She and Gungi eye each other warily.

"Gungi, I need you to trust me. We have to do a job, to rescue an innocent. Ventress has agreed to work with me."

He looks his Padawan in the eye. "We would be so much stronger if we had a third Force-user helping us."

Before he can ask, Gungi replies. " _You don't even have to ask, my Master."_

"Yeah. I do, Gung. Could be dangerous, lad."

" _I will always have your back, Master Croft."_ He looks pointedly at Ventress. " _No matter who tries to stab you in it."_

Ventress smirks at that. Apparently his tongue is one of her languages. He sees something else in her expression. Approval?

Croft's expression is easier to read as the range of emotions again plays across his face.

**Z'ambique**

Lok Durd sits in his office in the prefab base. He replays the experiment with the young woman in his head. He can find no basis for her continued defiance and resistance to his lesson.

He thinks back to just a few months ago. Of rotting in that Republic prison, subsisting on only three meals a day. Until a mysterious visitor showed up and walked him out of the enclosure. He knows that he had already started to tell his captors some of his secrets; that he had been near to telling them everything.

Just because he was inconvenienced and imprisoned.

He shakes his head as the comm beeps. "Message from Raxus, originating in the Republic. Naboo, I think," says the metallic voice of the tactical droid.

He opens the channel without a word.

A very large human, dressed in what passes for expensive finery looks through him from the comm.

Durd's identity is masked.

"Hello," the human says. "I have information that you may have some unwanted guests in the next few days. Thought I would pass it on. Maybe we can discuss a partnership for your new product...."

Durd disconnects the transmission. His expression is unreadable as he contemplates the new opportunity for experimentation.

On the other end of the ended transmission, the 'legitimate businessman' Skon Antol smiles as he anticipates the chaos.

He would be there to pick up the pieces.

And the credits that fall.

 


	7. That I shall come home redeemed,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pirate plans are the best plans. Until they are not.

**Hyperspace  
Free Vessel Opportunity  
**

Asajj Ventress and Taliesin Croft sit in companionable silence in the crew's lounge. They sip caf and tend to their weapons.

Croft watches Ventress wipe the energy bow down with a cloth. He is fascinated with the ancient weapon. He starts to re-assemble his blaster. He smirks at the thought of both of them using weapons from their past heritage. Heritages that they had left behind, but now seem to be calling them back.

She notices his expression; she smiles and nods. Her angular face grows serious. The tattoos at the corner of her mouth make the expression look fierce.

"What are you doing here, Croft? You obviously have some talents. I'd think you would be on the frontlines."

He takes a sip of his caf. He pulls out a small flask and pours a dollop into the cup. He holds it up with a questioning look to the Nightsister. She pushes her cup towards him. He splashes the whisky into it. She takes a sip; nods approvingly.

Croft sighs. "The Council and I had a disagreement over Ahsoka's treatment."

She shakes her head. "I know that Jedi and the Council have disagreements all of the time. They don't usually involve a talented fighter being shunted aside on a job for a Consular."

"Yeah, well, our disagreement involved me implying to Mace Windu that I would firebomb the capital city from orbit to free her if she had been sentenced to death."

Her eyebrows raise at that. "Impressive. Not many would have the balls to say that to Mr. Vaapad."

"More balls than brains, some would say," he says.

"Isn't that true of most Corellians?" she snarks.

"Most probably," he replies with a sheepish grin.

"Croft, do you ever think that the Jedi have outlived their usefulness?" she asks.

He answers immediately. "No. I don't. Some of the Councilors could retire and it wouldn't hurt my feelings. Your boyfriend Kenobi should probably lead the Council," Her eyes flash at this, but the anger morphs into her own sheepish look. "My Master should probably have more of an influence," he says. She sees the pain flash into his green eyes.

"Why are you still in the Order, Croft? Lassa or I could use someone of your talents easily."

"Which ones?" he asks with a grin. He feels a ghost-like touch at his groin. "Oh, I'm sure I could find a use for your saber," she says with her eyes locked on his.

He grows serious. "Believe me, I have thought about it. But I need to finish some things, Ventress. I owe it to my Padawan." His eyes track to his cup.

"I also need to mend things with Ti." Her eyes widen; a question in them. "I was an angry, immature ass regarding Ahsoka's trial. I need to fix this." He chokes slightly; shakes his head at who he is telling this to. "She made me who I am. For better or for worse."

Asajj takes a sip. "What is the little brat to you, Croft?"

He smiles. "She is nearly as responsible for making me as Ti is. Must be something about huntresses." His eyes go to the past. "I was her youngling clan master. She challenged me at every turn, forcing me to grow to teach her."

She nods. "I can see that."

"We also shared the danger of the Hunt on her world. My Master believed I should learn her traditions. Ahsoka and saved each other's lives on a few occasions."

Asajj smiles. "She is a fierce, skilled fighter for one so young. She very nearly took my head a couple of times."

They both fall silent with their own thoughts. Thoughts of those who leave holes in lives.

"Croft, I need to say something to you." Ventress pauses. "You are living proof that the Jedi Code needs to change. You are a talented Jedi; a Jedi full of compassion." His eyebrows raise. "Your attachments, as well as some I have seen in others, have the ability to make you powerful and compassionate because of your unselfishness. If, that is, you can get past the obstinance of your Masters; their inability to change."

She shakes her head angrily at her own weaknesses. She stands up and gathers her weapons. She downs the rest of her caf. She turns to go. Before she does, she moves closer to him and runs her fingers lightly through his hair.

His eyes are troubled as he considers her words.

**Hyperspace  
Z'ambique Sector**

Croft looks at Ventress' aquiline profile against the blue chaos of hyperspace. When they had fought on Corellia, he had felt nothing but pure malice rolling off of her.

Now, he can only sense confusion. Confusion tempered with a sense of revenge and living to fight another day.

He knows that she has changed, but into what? _How the hell can I answer that when I don't know what the hell I have changed into?_

He feels the eyeroll before it happens. "Taliesin dear, if you want me to throw you down and mount you, or bend me over the console, you have but to ask. You don't have to keep staring longingly at me."

A series of snuffling hoots from the turret ladder behind them interrupts his retort. " _Would you like me to take over flying, Master?"_

Croft turns to Gungi. "Laugh it up, my fuzzy apprentice. Why don't you keep laughing while you go stand on your head until we revert."

Still laughing, the Wookiee does a backflip and lands on his hands upside down. Asajj gives an uncharacteristically soft smile. "You are a good teacher to him, Jedi. He will be the stronger for it." Her eyes fall to the console as she considers what might have been.

A blinking light on the battered console claims their attention. They look at one another. "Gungi, man the turret," Asajj says softly. An eager bark acknowledges her order as he flips to the ladder for the triple-mount.

"You ready, Thug?"she says as she reaches for the hyperdrive controls.

"Yep."

"Should be a piece of cake. In and out."

"You just had to say that, Ventress, didn't you?"

The stars slow. He looks out at the star field.

"Well, shit."

XXXXX

Ventress feels the _Banshee_ shuddering around her from the multiple hits. From the multiple Separatist frigates who had opened fire on her ship the second it emerged from hyperspace.

She could feel the young Wookiee returning fire from the turret. Beside her, Croft is cursing under his breath and returning fire as well. "Shields down to forty percent, Ventress."

"What the hell, woman?" he continues "It's like they knew that we were coming. When we were coming."

"Yeah. Who all on the Council knew we were doing this, Jedi?"

"Nobody. Strangely enough, they're not micromanaging everything that I do. What about you? Who the hell hired you for this little shindig?"

"What the hell are you saying, Croft? That I let it slip when we were coming?"

"Well, you are a criminal, Ventress. Just saying."

"You asshole. You don't seem to mind the fact that Lassa is a criminal when she is letting you between her legs," the Dathomiri says, an edge to her voice.

"Could you talk less and fly more?"

A large shape appears beside them. "Looks like you have stepped in it, dears," comes a lazy Pantoran accent over the speakers.

"Good to see you, Lassa. Now maybe we can get on with it."

At that particular moment, a loud crash sounds from aft. "Coolant system overload. Gungi, get back there and see what you can do. Croft take his place," Ventress snaps. His eyes flash, but he obeys.

He climbs the ladder. Just as he is settling in the chair, a loud scream comes from aft. The scream echoes in the training bond. In half a second, he is sliding down the ladder and running to the engine room.

Gungi is lying on the floor, his fur smoking. The engine cooling system is arcing. Flames are shooting from the engine, as well. He yanks Gungi out with the Force and visualizes the fires winking out.

"Croft, I need you on the turret!"

"Gungi is hurt. I need to see to him."

He hears her voice soften. "I know, Taliesin. But we'll all be dead if you aren't in the turret."

Croft closes his eyes and places his hand on the young Wookiee's forehead. He sighs as he tries to impart some of his strength. He rises and climbs back into the turret.

Ventress looks at her console. She curses as the shields drop completely. She thinks of the Antol Brothers. _They have a propensity for playing both sides of deals_. She sees the four Sep light frigates closing on her. She punches the comm; makes a decision. "Lassa, we're getting out of here. Can you cover us for a moment?"

"Yeah, _Banshee_. They haven't messed with us. Think we'll head down to the surface and sow a little chaos."

"Be careful. I guess we won't get the girl out of there. I am down one Jedi and have no shields. Didn't sign up for this."

Lassa is silent. The Jedi behind her is not as he walks into the cockpit. "The fuck we are not, Ventress. Head to the surface. We need to get her out of there."

"Nope," she says. "I am not risking my ship any further. This is not a winning hand, Corellian."

"This ain't about your ship, Ventress. This is about an innocent," Croft says. She can feel something growing in him that she has not felt before.

Unfettered rage.

She makes the choice. She resets the navicomputer program. It blinks 'set', almost immediately. She shoves the hyperspace engine throttle forward, just as she feels Croft's hand on her arm.

The stars turn to chaos.

**Z'ambique**

Trooper Riddle, once of the vaunted 332nd Light Infantry, the Huntress Battalion, named in honor of the first General, as well as a younger, energetic Commander briefly attached to them, sits in the prisoner compound after his shift in the refinery.

He can feel the spores growing in his lungs. Many of his brothers in his new unit are already coughing and hacking, as the relentless droids push them to work faster and harder. At least no one else has died, yet, he thinks. Not since that damned slug killed Tone.

At least he doesn't think so. They had heard the buzz of electrostaffs earlier, but no screams. _I hate to say this, but I hope that she is dead. That she isn't going through that._

The ground rumbles as something breaks into the atmosphere. He looks at his fellow clones with widened eyes as they track upward. A battered black corvette of Corellian design lances into the atmosphere, dropping to the surface and skimming the ground.

Winking lights play from her turrets. "Cover!" he screams. He sees the fences of the enclosure exploding. Riddle looks at four of his brothers, the only ones off shift. At a word, their training kicks in. They rush the stunned droids and make short work of them. Riddle smiles.

"Feels better with a blaster in your hands, eh brothers? Come on. Let's get the others."

As they run to the refinery, Riddle looks up at the CR-90. A red skull outlined in gold stares back at him as it climbs.

XXXXX

Lassa Rhyame pulls up on the yoke of _Opportunity_. Thorin, the second best pilot on the ship, pulls up as well to add his weight. Lassa turns to his sister at the plotting table. "Did you get the data, Thy?"

"Yep, Lassa. Just to let you know, we have a couple of dozen life forms moving towards the capital from the enclosure you hit. They appear to be fighting their way out."

"Well, that's something out of this clusterfuck. Reset the coordinates. Little brother, get us out of here."

She turns to the bosun. "Tell that fuckhead Geikha and his lackeys that we will probably need him to work on Asajj's ship again."

"Lassa, do you think that we just killed that girl?" Thyla Secura asks, her lekku twitching with anger and sadness.

"I don't know, babe. I know that Tal is going to be feeling this."

XXXXX

Croft sits by the bedside of a Wookiee. Gungi has already spent the night floating in a bacta tank. The dip was probably his first ever. His fur still bears some of the singeing from the electrical arcs. The battered med-droid is keeping him unconscious to help the young Wookiee manage the pain.

Croft's thoughts are with his Padawan, but also with a young woman who will probably die due to their ill-conceived idea that they could just swoop in and grab her.

That and a betrayal that he has not traced. He looks up as Dani Faygan walks in. She reaches over and ruffles Gungi's fur; she kisses him on his forehead. She walks over to Croft and pulls his head to her chest. Her lips rest on the top of his head. "It's not your fault, love of my love," she whispers.

Croft encircles her with his arms. His hands move under her shirt on her back. The warmth of her skin flows through his palms. "Kinda feels like it is, Dani. I should've....."

'Should've, would've, could've, love. You couldn't predict that they would be waiting for us."

"I'm supposed to be able to, Dani. It's what I was born to do. It is not just a profession for me."

Dani looks down at the holoprojector on the table. The official dossier holo of Nola Vorserrie circles above the projector. She gazes at the holo.

"Doesn't really do her justice, Taliesin," she says.

"You know her?" he asks incredulously.

"Yep. You could say that. She is my foster-sister. Her parents took me in after my mother died and my father had too many enemies for me to stay with he and his son."

His eyes track downward again. "I'm sorry, Dani. I didn't know. I failed you."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Taliesin Croft. Nobody drafted her into being a Handmaiden trainee. She chose it. She is so damned strong. Don't count No-No out."

"No-No?"

"That's what I called her. It stuck with the rest of her family. She did use the word a lot." She smiles. "Got her teased quite a bit. But never by me."

"She is much younger than you, right? Tal asks.

"Yeah. About nine years younger."

They both fall silent. "We could ask my father to finance this," she says quietly.

"Oh yeah? Who is your father?"

"The Procurator-Fiscal and External of the Five Brothers."

She smirks at his expression. "Hmh," is all that he says.

His eyes widen. "Does that make us first cousins? He knows that we....."

"Relax, handsome. He married your aunt by blood. We aren't blood relatives. Plus, he wouldn't say anything because he doesn't think that I know."

His reply is cut short by the entry of Lassa Rhayme and Asajj Ventress. Lassa's eyes narrow at Dani.

Dani seems unconcerned. She smiles at the Captain and nods. She gives Croft one last look and turns from the room.

"How is he?" Lassa asks. Asajj walks over to Gungi's bedside. She touches his cheek.

"He'll be fine. Your med-droid says that we should count him out for any further rescue missions in the near future."

Asajj looks at Croft. "That's good because there aren't going to be any rescue missions anytime soon."

"What the hell do you mean, Ventress?" Croft says in a cold voice.

"This job has gotten too expensive, Croft. I'm out. As it is, I have to figure out how to get my ship repaired beyond what Lassa's crew can do."

Croft looks at Lassa. "We did nearly get everyone killed, babe," she says.

The glass on the bedside stand, as well as the holoprojector begins to vibrate. They both look at Croft with wide eyes.

He tries to bring his anger under control. The rescue attempt, the fate of the young woman, Ahsoka's trial and his exile all combine in his mind and spirit. The anger that has been pent up begins to release.

"Goddamnit," he yells. "You two only care about your fucking money. It was never about her. It was just a goddamned job. Well, I will tell you that I am sick and fucking tired of hearing about this as a 'job'."

He stands up. The anger rolls off of him in rushes. The glass shatters at the bedside. Asajj lashes out. Croft goes flying across the compartment, striking the bulkhead. He sinks to the deck; tries to rise. His energy is spent.

"Stop it, you idiots. Look at Gungi!" Lassa yells.

Asajj looks down at the Wookiee. His expression has grown pained. He whimpers. Lassa strokes his forehead.

Asajj looks at Croft. "You need to calm down, Jedi. I've been down that road. It is not for you. And don't tell me about the abandonment of innocents. Your Jedi have the monopoly on that."

At that, Asajj and Lassa turn and leave the cabin. Lassa spares a sympathetic glance for him, as he sits on the deck.

He rises and resumes his seat by his Padawan. As he sits, he feels the familiar tingle of the training bond.

_Gungi!_

_I am here, my Master._

_How do you feel, Fuzz?_

_Okay, except for the pain in my ass sitting next to me, losing his temper and breaking everything._

_You might want to watch what you say, my very young Padawan._

_I figure that I am unconscious. I can pretty much say anything and then deny it._

_Point taken, young one._

_You have taught me well, Master._ Croft can sense the smirk behind the thoughts.

_Master, you need to talk to Captain Rhayme. I think that you can convince her to help us._

_Us, Gungi? You're not going anywhere for a while, lad._

_Wherever you go, Master Croft, I will be there with you. At least in your mind._

Croft's eyes close. _I don't know if I deserve you or not, my young Padawan._

 _I am pretty sure that you don't, Master. Not right this minute. Not as long as you have your head placed firmly where it is._ _Go talk to Lassa. I think that she is the key._

_Oh, you do, do you?_

_Better than anything you can come up with._

_Maybe so, Gungi. Maybe so._

Croft rises. He bends down and kisses Gungi on the forehead. _Would rather have Dani doing that, Master._

_Keep dreaming, Fuzzy._

_Make sure that she has your back, Master. May the Force be with you._

_And with you, my apprentice._

As he turns to walk out, Lassa Rhayme walks in. Her eyes are sad. She checks on Gungi; sits by his bed.

He walks over to her and touches her cheek. She looks up. "Taliesin, do you have any money to pay Asajj? Maybe for her repairs? Some for her time?"

She sees his expression. She holds up her hands. "She is not cold-hearted. She just knows that she has to survive, as well."

"Coulda fooled me, Lassa," he says. She feels him calm.

Her eyes flash briefly; they return to their calm bronze stillness. His eyes soften. "You care about her, don't you."

"Yes, I do. She is a good friend. We have saved each other's lives before. Just like I care for you and my crew."

He sighs. "I have a discretionary fund. I might be able to pay for her repairs. The bean-counters at the Temple will probably take it out of my hide, but what the hell."

His eyes focus on the hatch. She sees the look, but doesn't ask. A slow smile comes over his face. The first one she has seen since they got back from Z'ambique.

"I might have another angle, Lassa. Can I borrow your communications hub? And one of your gunner's mates?"

Her eyes narrow at the last. The temperature of her voice drops ten degrees when she finally speaks. "Would this gunner's mate have crimson skin and a nice set of tits?"

He gives that sheepish look at the floor. The one with the half-grin. The one when he is trying to find a way to answer an impossible question. Or debating whether he will lie or not. She smiles. Usually noticed by people who know him.

"I hadn't noticed, but, possibly. Yes."

She rolls her eyes. She turns him around, towards the hatch. She places her hands on his ass and shoves. "Go. Get out of here."

XXXXX

Croft walks into the comm hub. Dani is already there. She nods and punches the signal through.

The craggy face of a Dragon sits there. "What?" he says.

Now that the pleasantries are dealt with.

"Uncle, I need a million and a half credits."

Dani and Draq's eyes widen. Draq' then breaks out in laughter.

"Do I look like the family bank, boy? What do you need it for? Did you get some princess knocked up?"

"You know what I need it for, you old bastard."

"Ahh, the son of Jamestyn Blackthorn speaks. What the hell is in it for Corellia? Why can't the Republic pay?"

"Because they are at war with the Seppies. It would not look good"

"And I care, why? What has the Republic done for me, lately?"

Croft close his eyes. When he opens them; Draq' and Dani can see a new determination. "I am not asking for the Republic. The Covenant of Corellia is asking."

Draq' is silent. "You would give up being a Jedi for this? You would Declare for the Signet? What is this girl to you?"

"She is an innocent. Isn't that what Covenants do? Besides, she is Dani's foster-sister."

Draq' slumps. "I know, Tal. Pold Vorrserrie is a friend of mine."

At that moment, the comm beeps. Dani looks down. She looks at both of them. "It's the Seppie commander, Durd."

Croft nods. The bloated visage of Lok Durd comes on the screen next to the holotable. Dani patches it through to Lassa.

"Attention Republic scum. Your ill-fated rescue attempt shows me that you do not take me seriously. You have forty-eight hours to bring the ransom to me or this girl will die. She will die painfully."

"I think that there needs to be a demonstration of my resolve." The camera pans to Nola Vorrserrie. Dani gasps at her appearance. She is filthy and gaunt. Her eyes show her fatigue and pain. But Dani smiles as she looks deeper into the young Naboo's eyes.

She sees the same resolve that she saw when Nola was being bullied. Dani's dark eyes flash with fire.

"Get it over with, you fat son of a bitch," Nola yells. A droid moves into the vision of the camera, blocking the view of Nola.

A brief scream is heard over Durd's unctuous voice. "Forty-eight hours."

Dani turns to Draq'. Her eyes are dark with emotion. "You better come off of whatever is needed to save my foster-sister, you cheap bastard."

"Dani," Draq' says firmly. He stops and looks down. "I am going to Naboo. I think that since the Seps knew you were coming, something is going on. I know Pold. If the Republic couldn't do anything officially, he probably would try to take matters into his own hands."

He looks at them both. "A father would do anything for his child."

Both Dani and Tal look at each other. "Tal," Draq' says quietly. He closes his eyes. "Jame," he corrects. He smiles. "That is the name that you were born with. I will not accept you as the Elector to pay a debt. You must Declare of your own free will. I will do what I can for No-No."

He signs off.

Dani takes him into her arms. As she does, he thinks of a young Padawan lying in a medbed. Of a father who may have fallen in with a devil for his daughter. Of the daughter of a Dragon and what that Dragon would do for her.

Of a man who bears his face and a silver chain in a portrait on Corellia. The silver chain that he now wears around his neck under his shirt.

Of fathers and children.

 

 

 


	8. Peaceful and forever free...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dragon comes calling on Naboo. Windows are broken. Hell comes to Z'ambique. Dressed in a business suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter...

**Naboo  
** **Theed**  
**Antol Family Restaurant**

The tall man walks into the restaurant, his craggy face set in a closed expression. His piercing blue eyes take in the scene. He smiles at a couple, dressed in business attire seated in a booth near the back in one seat, their hands clasped.

Another two tables of large human males are the only other seeming patrons in the restaurant. At high noon.

Another large human, dressed in a cheap version of formal wear, walks up to him. "Sorry. We're all booked up." The tall man surveys the near empty dining area. He makes a non-committal noise. He passes his hand around the room. "Really?" is all he says.

"Reservations." the host simply says. "I'll wait." the tall man replies.

The temperature in the room drops several degrees. "We're filled up for the rest of the day, old man." He puts his hand on the tall man's arm. "We also don't like loitering."

The tall man's eyes narrow. "Must've taken you quite a while to get to the _leth_ section in the dictionary for that word, sport."

"Look, you old bastard, we're closed. Now beat feet or you might get hurt. We don't like roughing up senior citizens, but we will if you insist."

"Son," the tall man says, a particular type of smile playing across his face, "I haven't been roughed up by someone of your obvious brainpower since I was three years old." His eyes lance through the host. "Plus, I am an orphan, not a bastard. There is a very significant difference, one that I don't have time to enlighten you with, bud. Now tell you what. You go find Skon or Jed and tell them they have a visitor--a visitor who has a proposition for them. Run along."

"Nobody here by those names. I guess we are going to have to break you, old man."

"Junior, people have tried the galaxy over for the past forty years. Better folks than you, of all species, of all genders. As you can see, my ugly face is still standing here grinning at you. Do you really want to try me?"

"You don't look so hard to take."

The tall man sighs. The 'host' puts his other hand on the older man's arm. In one swift movement, in a move belying the 'old man's' languid demeanor, the host suddenly finds himself flying over the tall man's shoulders.

Straight out the front window.

The two tables of bruisers jump up and spread out. As two of them put their hands under their coats and start to bring out weapons, they go down screaming with energy bolts in their knees. From the blaster that has suddenly appeared, as if by magic in the 'old' man's hand.

The tableau freezes. The remaining six thugs stand with their eyes staring in amazement. The tall man's eyes narrow as he sees the young woman start to rise. The large man next to her smiles and puts his hand on her arm. Her eyes flash fire, but she sits.

A somewhat more cultured voice, but still one with an edge to it speaks from a door in the rear. "Ah, Dragon, I see you have entered my establishment with a Corellian's usual charm. What am I going to do with you?"

Draq' bel Iblis smiles a particular smile. One that looks like hellfire is about to be unleashed. "You're going to tell your pets to sit their oversized asses down, then you and I are going to have a talk about a young girl on a shithole that a buddy of yours is holding against her will."

Another man walks out from behind Skon Antol. A slightly smaller man, but a man still with an air of one who has made his living with his hands, walks out. "What does he mean, Tank? A buddy of yours?" His eyes narrow at Skon.

Draq' looks at the newcomer. "Hey, Pold. How's it going?"

"Can't complain, Draq', except for the fact that I have apparently fallen in bed with the same assholes holding my girl."

"Get back in the office, Vorrserrie, if you ever want to see your daughter alive and whole again." He looks at Bel Iblis. "You have no jurisdiction here, Bel Iblis. This ain't Corellia, where you can apparently throw your weight around with impunity."

"Actually, I do have some say here. Your lovely Queen was very concerned when I and some friends of mine presented her with evidence of complicity with Lok Durd. A slug who is not too popular here on Naboo after the invasion a few years back."

He waves his blaster. "She has given me carte blanche to handle her problem for her. Seems I have a reputation for dealing with Antol scumbags. Where is old Jad, by the way? Still having trouble with anything other than soft food?"

A brief flash of anger on Antol's placid features erupts but fades. "You leave my brother out of it, you bastard. I think it is time for us to end our Corellian problem. Seeing as how you didn't think to bring anyone else with you."

The Dragon smile returns. "Oh, that is where you're wrong, Skon. You maybe should vet your potential job applicants better. And their beautiful girlfriends.

Skon turns to the table in the back. The couple are standing. The male, a very large man who ordinarily would've fit in well with the other thugs, stands with his arms folded, taking in the scene through amber eyes.

The 'girlfriend,' a beautiful woman staring at Skon with dark blue eyes, seems no less dangerous, for all of her calm demeanor. A bright jewel is centered on her forehead.

She brings her hands up. Four of the thugs who have turned on the two go flying through the air and crumple against the wall. The two remaining thugs draw their weapons and open fire on both the couple and the Dragon.

A meter long shaft of green energy deflects the bolt back into the knee of the thug shooting at the couple. The large man beside her moves quickly, very quickly for a man of his size. He seizes the thug about to shoot at Draq' with the crook of his elbow around the man's throat. The bruiser drops the blaster that he had started to fire and struggles against the immovable arm.

He goes limp.

They turn to a noise. Skon has drawn his own blaster and is pointing it at the couple.

He discounts the father behind him, who smashes a very expensive bottle of wine on the hand holding the blaster. Polden Vorrserrie seizes the same arm and twists it with surprising ferocity.

There is a pop and a scream as the shoulder attached to the arm is dislocated. "You son of a bitch," Pold yells, "You said you would help me. I should've known not to trust you, having watched you beat and terrorize people for twenty years."

He punctuates each word with a punch to the larger man's face. Even when his words fail, his fists don't.

Everyone watches, but does nothing. Draq' finally walks over and places his hand on Vorserrie's arm. "That's enough, Pold. You've made your point," he says in a quiet voice.

Pold looks at him. Draq' pulls him into an embrace. "Why didn't you come to me, Pold? I owe you so much for looking after Dani."

"Don't know, Draq'. I guess I wasn't thinking. Or maybe wanted to maintain the illusion that I could protect my daughter myself."

The agony on his face is palpable.

Draq' smiles. "You can. I learned several years ago that I can protect my daughter myself. But only with the help of my friends. As you can see, you have many friends in this room."

The large man who had just choked the thug to the ground, smirks at him with a face that is echoed in millions of others. "Except for me. I was promised gallons of ale and free time with a certain young lady."

In spite of the gravity, Pold smiles. "I'll buy, son. I don't drink any more, but I can promise you it will flow like a river."

The clone smiles. "My name is Drop, sir. The galaxy's cheapest date." Pold offers his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Drop. Sergeant?"

"Sergeant-Major."

Vorserrie smiles again. "Thought so. You look like you work for a living."

"You know it, sir."

Pold turns to the woman standing beside drop, a smile on her face. "And you, young lady. I was told that the Jedi were 'stretched too thin' for them or their troops to be involved."

Her smile turns into a grin. "Yes. Well, we are on vacation. I'm also the one supplying the free time to the 'working man,' here."

A perplexed look flows onto the features of the Naboo. "We?"

A scream from behind them tenses them. Another in a seemingly endless supply of large Naboo males, this one bearing a marked resemblance to Skon, is on his knees, holding a stump of a right hand. The hand in question lies on the floor, clutching a rifle.

Another hand sheathes a blue lightsaber blade and returns it to her belt. A tall, serene Togruta stands there, a warm smile on her face. A warm smile full of her species' natural snark.

"Wondered when Jed was going to show up to shoot somebody in the back." Draq' muses. He gives his warmest, non-reptile smile. "What kept you?"

"I was promised steak and wine, Dragon," she says. She nods at Vorrserrie. "Mr. Vorrserrie has graciously provided the wine. I was distracted by the steak in the kitchen. Who the hell does that to a piece of meat? Do they think that they have to burn it into submission?"

"Pold, may I present Jedi Master Shaak Ti? High General of the Grand Army of the Republic and noted huntress and carnivore."

Ti bows. "I think we've met, at least in hologram form," Pold says. "You were the one of the two Jedi on that call who didn't seem to have a stick placed firmly..." He breaks off, remembering his manners.

Ti smirks. "Master Windu does try to hide it, but it shows itself sometimes."

"Okay, if we're all finished with the exposition," Draq' says, "let's see about getting safe conduct for somebody to pay a visit to Skon's Hutt-with-legs." He grows serious. "I think Nola is counting on us."

**Free Vessel _Opportunity_  
Outer Rim**

Croft walks into the cargo bay of the Opportunity. He stops and watches the Dathomiri go through lightsaber forms. He admires her effortless swings and parries. He smiles ruefully as he thinks of the times that he has faced that effortless grace.

"Go ahead and say it," she says, without missing a swing.

"What would that be?" he says.

"Well, about how much of a mercenary bitch I am, or how you would like lightsaber lessons." she replies.

"Ventress, for one, I don't think I can criticize you. My apprentice decided to come through the bond and tell me to get my head out of my ass. Plus, the day I need lightsaber lessons from you is the day that I space myself as a mercy kill."

The bounty hunter finishes her last kata. She grabs the towel that Croft throws to her and wipes the sweat from her face. She looks at him expectantly. He sighs and begins to speak. "Asajj, I am sorry about your ship. I have some funds to pay for the repairs, as well as some of your time."

"Sounds good, so far, darling." He smirks. _Sounds better than 'asshole,' I guess. Good sign that she is flirting._

She grins at his expression. "Don't get any ideas, darling. Remember, I have seen all of your shortcomings."

 _Okay. So much for that idea._ He muddles ahead. "There is also a good chance that I can acquire more funds. Funds that might pay you more than the Antols did."

"Very promising. Especially since I am pretty sure that those bastards gave us away. Even though they didn't know specifically when we were coming."

"I am also offering you a chance to prove the Jedi wrong. To prove that you are better than they are at not abandoning innocents."

"I am listening, Taliesin."

"I have some support. Not exactly from the Jedi, but my plan will take most of the risk on myself. Myself and one other. I'll just need support from you and Lassa."

Her ice-chip eyes actually soften. "There's the self-sacrificing idiot Jedi that I have come to know and love." She smirks. "Would the 'other' have smooth crimson skin and a lightsaber scar on her beautiful back from me?"

His expression remains blank. "Oh, come on, darling. I saw her slinking around, trying to avoid me. I haven't said anything because we could probably use her. Although," the smirk grows, "I am surprised that our Captain and she haven't been taking bubble baths together."

"She is aiming a little lower. The navigator and her brother."

"Ahh. She has good taste."

"Ventress, I ask that you not muddy things by exposing her to Lassa. She is my cover and while Lassa might tolerate Corellian Jedi with good looks and congeniality to spare," he tries to ignore her eyeroll, "she might be more averse to Corellian cops."

"I can see that, Tal. Fair enough. But if Lassa asks me directly, I can't lie to her. I will give you fair warning and try to help you get your cop off the ship."

"I appreciate it, Asajj."

She touches his face. "I might take out my good will in trade, darling."

He turns and kisses her palm. "It's a dark and dirty job...." he smirks.

"So what is this plan of yours?" Ventress asks.

"Still working on it."

"That's what I was afraid of. Damned seat-of-the-pants Corellians."

XXXXX

Lassa sits next to the young Wookiee as he sleeps. He is no longer under the influence of any medication; he is merely sleeping. She runs her fingers through the fur on his forehead. He stirs, but remains asleep. The door opens and Ventress and Croft walk in. Her eyes widen as she looks at them. They both smile at her and nod reassuringly.

_Well, they're both alive and unwounded. That's the main thing._

Croft's eye track to where her fingers are caressing Gungi's fur. She picks her hand up quickly.

Ventress smiles. "Don't worry, dear. We won't tell your crew."

The Captain's eyeroll can be felt on the bridge.

"What?" she says. They get the idea that the question is directed at both of them.

"We have a plan," Croft says.

"No," Ventress says. "Croft has a plan. I am just going along with it."

"Gee, thanks for the support, witch," Croft says, his eyes flashing.

"Get on with it, Croft," Lassa says. "We're getting older by the minute,"

"Some acquaintances, or anonymous friends of mine..."

"Another words, scumbag friends," Lassa snarks.

He falls silent. "You going to keep interrupting me, Cap?" he says in an irritated voice. She waves him on.

"My friends have an acquaintance with the Sep commander on the pretense of moving his new drug product. They are providing an untraceable ship, as well as a passport to land on the planet. For one pilot and an assistant."

Lassa looks thoughtful. "You have anyone in mind, Tal?"

"Yeah. Me and one of your crew."

"Who?"

"Same one who helped make contact with my 'friends' earlier. Gungi told me that she is pretty good in a scrap and keeps her head on her shoulders."

Lassa eyes slice into him. "Is that the only reason?"

"Yes." He says simply. He notices out of the corner of his eye that Ventress refuses to meet his eye.

Lassa is silent as she stares at him. Finally, she says. "Go on."

"We'll land, infiltrate, get Nola and get out."

"What about us?" Lassa says.

"You'll jump in from opposite angles and clear our way out. Thorin has already taken Asajj's ship to get completely fixed; he should be back in ten hours. Figure another ten hours in hyperspace; we'll meet his deadline with about twelve hours to spare."

"What about the Republic troops that are left?"

"My friends have that in hand."

Lassa looks at Asajj. "What do you think?"

"I think it is our best shot."

"Lot of risk on you and Red, Taliesin."

He looks down. "I know. But it is what I have to do." He smiles. "Besides, I have some Jedi tricks up my sleeve."

Lassa nods absently. She starts and stands up. She pulls Croft's head to her. Their lips touch and meld. She pushes him away. "Get out of my sight, Taliesin Croft," she says in a sharp voice. "You better come back."

"We will," Ventress says dryly.

**Z'ambique  
Twenty hours later**

General Lok Durd sits sprawled in a chair in his ornate quarters in the prefab base. The smallest gender of the filthy race that inhabits this dustbowl places another tray of food and takes away the two empty ones.

Apparently this is all of the pleasure one can take on this hole.

He idly runs his hand over the skinny backside of the Z'ambiquesena. She turns and stares at him from behind the bandages. He drops his hand after a moment. She turns and walks out.

He sighs. There isn't even the mental stimulation from his scientific studies.

A study of how long it would take to to break a young, innocent girl. With pain and manipulation. He had failed when the girl had shown unexpected resolve in resisting the pain.

He couldn't even manipulate her by slaughtering her clones. The ill-fated rescue attempt had freed them. Subsequent trackings of them and attacks from his droids had whittled their numbers down to eighteen or so.

Eighteen well trained soldiers still at large in the sands and hills around the base.

He downs his whisky and then sighs. He stands up and walks over to the sideboard to pour his own. He thinks of the young Naboo, her steadfast defiance in the face of agonizing pain.

Perhaps he shouldn't worry about advancing science. The Republic would not come through for the girl. She would die.

He might as well find something to enjoy about this whole misbegotten experiment. The loss of the clones had precluded production of any of the refined mineral drug. He had nothing to show for his initiative.

Or his disobedience as Count Dooku would term it.

He smiles as he begins to think of ways to ensure the girl's demise. Slowly.

His spirits begin to slowly rise.

Until a comm interrupts his plans.

"A small ship has entered the sector, General," his tactical droid intones. "It is broadcasting the safe conduct that we issued to your allies on Naboo."

_Hmm. Maybe there will be a chance to make something out of this._

"Allow them to land. How many are there?"

"We allowed two, General." the droid replies.

"Bring them to me."

XXXXX

Trooper Riddle surveys the base from a low ridge to the north. He closes his eyes as he remembers the last time he was on this shithole. The last battle. A battle he had tried to get out of, but a very large pain in the ass had browbeat him into going as part of the covering force.

A very large pain in the ass who had lived up to his namesake, Drop.

He grimaces. _Browbeat, hell. He had picked my ass up and dropped me in the lartie._

He shakes his head. _Kinda wish that big bastard was here right now. This is the second time I have found myself in charge of a small body of my brothers, with them looking to me to make decisions_.

He had never wanted to be in command of anything - even himself. Disciplinary reports throughout his life had very nearly gotten him assigned to maintenance, or worse.

He would have been okay with working for Ninety-nine.

A slap to his head from behind brings him back. He turns and looks at Slate. _Another ARC wannabe_. "What does it look like, Riddle?"

"It looks like you had better not fucking hit me in the head again, Shiny."

The other clone's rejoinder is lost in a roar moving over the ridge. A small Corellian gunship moves slowly on approach to the Seppie base. He smiles. "Boys, I think that we have a way out."

Slate looks at him with his ghost eyes. _I hate that goddamn genetic anomaly. Feels like this asshole sees right through me. Just like our old Commander back on Geonosis._

_Of course, Horn always did._

"How, so, Riddle?"

"We sneak down there, grab that ship and get the hell out of here. Easy."

A snort comes from his left. "And who the hell is going to fly the thing, _Vod_?" Rust asks. "You?"

Riddle stares at the other trooper. "Well, we will use your winning personality to persuade whoever is flying that bucket to take us off this dustbowl for good."

Rust snorts. Riddle is about to speak, but is interrupted by another trooper. One who hasn't said two words the whole time they have been assigned here.

"What about that little girl that we heard screaming every goddamned day when we were working ourselves to death? She doesn't have anybody but us," says Bev.

"Well, what the hell can we do, Bev? We barely got out of there ourselves. There's only five of us. I don't even know if anyone else got out alive or not."

Bev looks at him. "You kind of forget what we were here for, Riddle? That we are here to protect that little girl."

"I doubt she would give a shit about us. Look what happened to Tone when she didn't do what that slug told her," Riddle says, his anger growing.

"Doesn't matter, useless. Tone knew what he was in for. That girl was supposed to be the center of our universe. Our one fucking job. You may not give a shit, but the rest of us 'shinies' as you call us except when you are trying to get out of work, remember what we were bred for."

Riddle senses he has lost the argument as the other three clones nod in agreement.

 _Dammit_.

"So, Bev. What do you propose to do. Go down there and lull the clankers to sleep with your singing or playing the bes'bev?"

"I think we might have some help at that," says Tyke. He is looking through their pair of purloined macrobinoculars. He looks questioningly at his batchmate. The only other _Vod_ from the 332nd. One who had made ARC when they had been converted.

Tyke points at the now-landed ship. "Looks like hell has come knocking."

Riddle looks at the the two people disembarking from the gunship. One, a beautiful red-skinned woman, probably wasn't the hell that Tyke was talking about. _Though she looks like she can hold her own in the hell-bringing department._ He tracks to the man whose arm the woman is holding to.

A man who you wouldn't give two looks to as a threat. A man of medium height, in shape, but nothing special.

Unless you had seen him fight; touching that mystical whatever-it-was that gave he and his 'family' their strengths. Of seeing him leap from a Republic frigate in flight to save his Master and Riddle's brothers.

He looks closer. For once, the beard is short and well groomed. His hair is tied back from his face. He is dressed in sedate business clothes. The young woman wears a revealing dress, guaranteed to distract a certain slug from the man.

He looks through the binocs. _Well, the eyes haven't changed._ He had been on the receiving end of some of the more intense scrutiny of those eyes.

Scrutiny that usually resulted in extra duties from his 'right hand.' A very large, Null right hand.

"Okay, Bev. Looks like we have a Jedi to help us."

XXXXX

Lok Durd surveys the man and woman before him. His eyes widen as the Zeltron smiles at him. _That's interesting_ , he thinks. He smirks as the woman places a possessive hand on the male's hip.

"So, you have come to me from the Antols? What good news of wealth for me do you bring?" Durd asks.

The man sweeps his gaze over Durd. A smirk plays over his face as he contemplates his answer. He shakes his head. "Wealth for both of us, General. Maybe even a small cut for the Antols if I am feeling generous."

Durd's rubbery face shows interest. _Either interest or indigestion._

"How do you mean, Mr.?"

"Bel Iblis. Draq' Bel Iblis."

Durd smiles as if Bel Iblis is the second course on the table. "Really? I've heard of you. Thought you would've been older." The smile grows into a smirk. "And taller."

"I'm old enough and tall enough to make you very wealthy, General. I am pretty sure that the Confederacy does not have a very lucrative pension plan."

"True enough. So what do you propose?"

"I propose that we come to an agreement on an exchange. The young woman that you hold belongs to an acquaintance of mine. An acquaintance with something that I want. If I am able to bring his daughter back to him, then he will be in my debt."

"What's in it for me?" Durd asks.

"I pay you a million credits for the girl. I also get the Republic distribution system for your new product. You also get a twenty percent cut of that, over and above any 'licensing' fees we might negotiate."

"Twenty percent? That is a paltry sum."

"Sure, if you can distribute it yourself. I am considered a respected, legitimate businessman. Not some collection of scumbags like the Pykes or the Black Sun. I have ways of moving the product that can avoid detection and interest from the authorities."

"You have my interest, Mr. Bel Iblis. But one million is a steep price for you to pay for one awkward teenager."

"As I said, her father is in my debt. One million is a small price for what I will gain from him."

"Oh? What, pray tell, would that be? I might have an interest in that."

"Never you mind. At the least, you'll walk away with a cool million."

"So tell, me, Mr. Bel Iblis. When you visited the Antols, did you enjoy the food?"

Bel Iblis stares at the Nemoidian. "If you call an overdone, thin steak and forgettable sides a good meal, then I am not sure how you got to be so....prosperous." He looks pointedly at Durd's middle.

Durd is silent for a moment. He then breaks out in laughter. "Very good, Mr. Bel Iblis. The Antols were quite helpful during the invasion a few years back. But their food left much to be desired."

"Did Skon Antol's speech impediment put you off much?" Durd asks casually.

"No. Not really. I am used to listening to Corellians. I could understand him."

Durd's expression doesn't change. He pushes a button on his pad. "That is very good, Mr. Bel Iblis. Except he speaks fine, clear Basic."

Five magnaguards appear from various nooks and crannies in the room. A red dot appears on 'Bel Iblis' chest. He goes into a defensive stance as a lightsaber flies into his hand.

The red dot moves from his chest and joins three others on the forehead of his Zeltron companion. They change in color to bright green.

"You may get some of the bolts, Jedi. But one will find its way into the beautiful head of your companion."

The Jedi stands and sheathes his saber. "Durd. You have only one chance. I have only one offer. Give me the girl and allow me to take my troops off of this rock and you get away clean. Otherwise, the Republic task force that is making their way here will turn you into a puddle of rendered fat."

"I am sure that such an ill-thought out plan indicates that you are, 'flying by the seat of your lower wrappings,' as you humans might say. I think I will take my chance and add to my ransom with a Jedi." He looks at the beautiful Zeltron with hunger. "Perhaps your beautiful companion will assuage my boredom." He waves a hand.

Two magnaguards clasp the Jedi by the shoulders while a third removes his lightsaber. There is a cursory search and then the ubiquitous Force-suppressant cuffs go around his wrists.

He looks at Durd, a confident smile on his face. As he is led away, he turns his head. "You should've taken the deal, Durd. Now you are most probably going to die."

Durd snickers. "I have faced Jedi before and come out alive. Why should I be afraid that one such as you could best me. One who came in with no back up and surrendered his saber at the first threat to a pretty face."

Something nags at the back of Durd's mind. He dismisses it as he beckons the Zeltron towards him. "Now, my dear. You must realize what I can do to you and the Jedi if you are the slightest bit less than friendly."

The young woman smiles a beatific smile as she sidles up to him. "He means nothing to me. He was pretty weak. I am intrigued by men of power."

She kneels in front of him; looking up at him. He looks down at her. "I would prefer to be alone, your Worship, for what I am about to do."

"They're just droids, my dear," he says in his deep, cultured voice.

"Yeah, I know, but still....."

His eyes soften. "Very well, my dear." He motions to the droids, who turn and leave.

He notices her running both hands over her legs, lifting up the skirt of her dress.

"So, my dear? What shall I call you?"

XXXXX

Nola looks up from where she has been staring at Tone's body, her eyes full of pain. She thinks of Naboo, of the beauty of the cities and of the Lake Country.

All that are reflected in his open, staring eyes. The tears flow freely as she thinks of how often she has tried to get his eyes to close.

They stare at her accusingly.

She starts at the noise at the door of her cage. The cage opens. A young human male is shoved in by her two droid guards. He turns and stares at the two droids.

He turns back to her. He is dressed in a business suit; something you wouldn't think to see on Z'ambique. He looks at her as if seeing her for the first time. A warm grin plays over his features. His eyes reflect the warmth.

"Hello, Nola. My name is Croft. I have come to get you out of here," he says.

She rolls her eyes as she looks at his bound hands. "My hero."

XXXXX

 _Well, this isn't how this was supposed to go,_ Trooper Riddle thinks to himself. He and the other four troopers kneel on the sands, their hands behind their heads in the classic _oh shit, I got caught_ pose.

Twenty B1 battledroids stand over them, their blasters aimed at the troopers. The clankers seem to be carrying out an intense debate about what to do with them. One faction seems to be in favor of blasting them to tiny little _Vod_ chunks immediately, while another is in favor of taking them in for interrogation.

Yet another smaller faction seems to be in favor of taking a little extra time to kill them.

_I should've stayed on Coruscant . But no, I had to piss off yet another officer._

The faction for instant execution seems to have one out, as charging bolts are pulled back. He closes his eyes.

He hears a blaster discharge. He falls forward.

The blaster discharges are accompanied by a humming sound. Two distinct humming sounds.

He opens one eye, slightly. Parts of B1s are scattered all around. Others seem to be running away, but are soon yanked by backwards and smashed, as if by an invisible hand.

He looks around. His eyes widen as they fall on someone he had never thought to see again. Two someones.

A tall, serene Togruta huntress sheathes her blue blade. The huntress who was one of the namesakes of the old 332nd.

A younger Chalactan walks up to one of his brothers and lends him a hand up.

A large shadow falls over him. He looks up and closes his eyes. He reopens them to see the someone who he had never wished to see again.

A large clone in Phase II commando armor. Drops of blood painted under the eye. A large jewel in the center of his _b'uy'ce_.

"Come on, fuckhead. Are you going to sleep your life away?" Sergeant-Major Drop growls, extending his hand.

"How? Drop! What?"

"Let's just say that we were on vacation and in the neighborhood," General Ti says with a smile.

He does something he only usually does begrudgingly. He comes to attention and salutes her.

Drop nods approvingly. "Might make a soldier of you, yet, Riddle."

"Not if it means being around you."

A large hand connects with the rear of his head. "Be nice, or I might convince the Generals to leave your useless ass behind to cover us."

Riddle's eyes suddenly widen. "General, Drop. We have to get the young woman out that the Seppies are holding. Croft is here, but he might need some backup. Only thing he brought is a nice red holster ...."

Just as soon as the _Vod's_ term left his mouth, he regrets it.

The large hand connects with his head again. He notices that General Ti is looking at him like he is prey.

He holds his hands up. "Sorry. But they all might be dead if we don't get them out of there."

Ti's expression softens. "I think that your Warrior Bard and the 'holster' might have it in hand," she says dryly. "We're here to get you out."

"Master, we have company," the young Chalactan says. She points to the west, her macrobinoculars to her eyes.

Ti and Drop look where she is pointing. A large body of droids on STAPs are coming towards them, kicking up dust.

"Grab weapons, boys. It's a long way to Coruscant," Drop bellows. Riddle looks around and sees that the other ten or so surviving troopers have come up behind the two Jedi.

 _Might have a chance,_ he thinks as he picks up a droid's blaster. He drops the metal hand still attached to it.

XXXXX

Lok Durd smiles in anticipation as the Zeltron's hands move under his robe. He draws a deep shaky breath as her hand finds a particularly sensitive area. He places his hands on her head. She looks up at him and says, "Shh," as her hands pull his down to the chair. He looks at her. Her black eyes entrance him. She is smiling as well. "My name is Dani," she says. The black eyes grow hard. "But you can call me Constable." She raises one hand high and brings it down between his legs.

His eyes have only a moment to widen before a wave of intense pain rushes from his hands. He tries to rise, but realizes that he is pinned to his chair. He looks down at the woman. She stands. "That's for my foster-sister and the pain that you have caused her," she says evenly. "But because of who she is, her compassion, I am not going to kill you." Her smile grows purely evil. "Just going to leave you pinned there." His eyes fill with pain and terror as he looks down and sees an elegantly handled knife sticking from the wood of the chair.

With both of his hands pinned, one on top of the other. He kicks out at her. She dodges it easily and wags her index finger at him. "Be nice. I was actually aiming for your equipment, but it was too small of a target."

His bellow of pain and rage echoes through the small compartment. She winks at him. "Of course, you can get up, but you're going to have to pull out the knife."

He struggles to shift his comm, trying to figure out how to sound the alarm.. She easily reaches over and takes it from him, as well as the blaster in its holster hidden under his ample girth. She winces and holds her nose. "Man, you really have no self-control, do you?"

She points the blaster at him. He screams as she fires the stun bolt.

 _I should've stayed in that Republic prison when I had the chance,_ is his last thought.

 _Really going to miss that knife,_ is hers, as she turns to go pull Croft's equipment out of whatever wringer he has gotten it stuck in. She picks up his lightsaber, which had fallen from the arm of Durd's chair.

XXXXX

Croft grins at the girl. "Your foster-sister said that you might rival me for pure smartassedness."

"I'm not even sure that is a word." Her eyes grow wide as she realizes what he has said. "You know Dani? Is she here? Where is she?" She tries to look around him.

"She is, right at this moment, taking care of your slug problem," he says with a smile.

Her own smile overwhelms him with its brightness. "Can't think of anyone better to do the job," she says. Her smile moves back to the smirk that the women in his life seem to pierce him with when they think he is falling short. "So, Hero. How are you going to get us out of here, seeing as how you managed to get yourself locked up with me? In binders."

"All part of the plan, darlin'."

"Do you think you could execute the plan a bit faster, Hero?"

His eyes looks to the ceiling, then to the floor. "Well, at least they didn't take my boots," he muses.

"Were you afraid that your tootsies were going to get cold?"

"Nope, Last Word." Her eyes flash at the nickname. "All part of the plan. Look at my belt buckle."

"Okay. Only a Corellian could wear something that tasteless with the suit."

"Everybody's a critic. Take the wooden part off."

"I'm not undressing you, Croft, or whatever your name is."

"Come on, No-No. Hurry it up."

The use of her nickname spurs her. She moves her left hand over to the belt buckle. His eyes widen and then soften when he notices that her right arm is deformed with a break just below her shoulder. She sees his expression. "I don't want to talk about it."

A half-minute later and the wooden handle is sitting in her lap.

"Now for the fun part. In the top of my right boot is a tab. Pull it up."

"This isn't like 'pull-my-finger,' is it? My dad always used that one on me."

"You won't know until you try it."

She pulls the tab. There is no explosion. An arcane looking mechanism, a crystal at its center is in her hand in the blink of an eye.

"Now, this may take a second. Take the mechanism and insert it in the handle and make sure that the little stud over the crystal lines up with the big knot in the wood." Can you do it one-handed, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I think I can, Croft." She kneels and places the wooden handle between her knees and begins to painstakingly lower the mechanism into the wood."

Five minutes later, the task is accomplished. "Okay. Looks good. Now what, Croft?"

"Never doubted it, Nola. Put it in my right hand where my thumb is over the knot. Point the emitter down and a bit away from me and stand back."

He looks back at her; shakes his head. "Come around to my side, sweetie."

"What are you going to do?" she asks, a look of fear in her eyes.

"Hopefully not cut my fingers off."

A long green shaft of intense light erupts from his hands. He closes his eyes and concentrates. He slowly moves the blade towards himself. He ignores the intake of breath from Nola. There is a slight crackle and the his hands split from each other, the binders cut in half.

Nola looks at his expression, as it changes when the binders deactivate. He sheathes the blade. He closes his eyes to draw on the Force. The remains of the binders fall away. He opens his eyes.

Nola is struck by the change in him. She can almost see the power resonating through him. He sees her looking at him, her eyes slightly wide in amazement.

His grin brings her back down. He turns to the cage door. His eyes close and he lifts his hands.

She is about to say something when he pulls his hands back. There is a loud crash as the two guard-droids smash into the cage door. He pulls his hands together and they fly together. Another twist of his hands and the door flies open.

He turns to her. He walks over to her. He places his palm on arm at its break. He stares into her eyes. "Nola, I am not a healer, but I might be able to help with the pain. When Dani gets here, we'll set your arm before we go."

She nods at him as a warm feeling suffuses around the break. She stares into his eyes. The dam breaks and the tears flow from her dark eyes.

Without a word, he pulls her to his shoulder. Her sobs reverberate through his chest. His hand gently caresses her back as he lets her cry.

This is how Dani finds them.

XXXXX

Riddle and the other troopers form a line, their captured blasters at the ready. Drop walks behind the line, giving encouragement. "Make sure that you lead them enough. They're going to be fast as hell. Make every shot count."

Riddle is startled by movement from the STAPs.

Movement in the opposite direction. Towards the base. He chances it. "Hey, Drop. How 'bout we just let them turn tail and run?"

Drop looks up. "Well, that may be good for your useless ass, Riddle. But General Croft and Constable Faygan might have some trouble."

Ti walks up, her expression troubled. "Elle, take the kids back to the shuttle. Drop, come with me." She smiles her predator's smile. "Guess we will have to pull my Padawan's _shebs_ out of the fire, again."

"Seems to be an all-day, job, General."

Elle is not amused. "Master, you'll need me there. I can..."

Ti places her fingers against the younger Jedi's lips. "No, Elle. No one else can fly the ship. I may need you to get us out of there, once he blows things up." She smiles gently. "Don't worry, Elle. I will bring him back to you."

She turns as Drop pulls Elle towards him. She raises his bucket and kisses him.

The other troopers look on in amazement, until Riddle plays the adult. "Give 'em some privacy. Come on, boys."

Elle and Drop break away. Drop replaces his bucket and turns towards the huntress and nods. They start off at a brisk pace towards the base. Elle, Riddle, and his brothers watch them before turning in the opposite direction.

 _**Banshee** _  
**Approaching Z'ambique**

Asajj Ventress turns to her temporary copilot. "We're coming up on the reentry point, Asajj," Thyla Secura says. "Thanks, darling." She smiles. "Thanks to both of you for helping me crew this little misadventure."

The large male Twi'lek smiles back at her from behind. "No problem, Asajj. It'll be good to be fighting with you again," Thyla's brother says. "Might be even more fun afterwards, if last time was an indicator."

Asajj smiles seductively. "Perhaps, Thorin. Go now. Man the turret."

He reaches down to his sister. He holds her close as their lekku twine. He stands up and runs his fingers through Asajj's hair. "May the Force be with you, Asajj."

She is startled by his response. "And...And with you, Thorins'ecura."

Ventress nods to Thyla. The navigator pulls back on the hyperspace lever.

Immediately, the Dathomiri powers the sublight engines to full and takes the disk-shaped craft into a steep dive towards Z'ambique.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a black vessel with red and gold highlights jump in and immediately start a similar dive to another vector. In her mind's eye, she can see a beautiful Pantoran woman shoving down on the controls just like she is.

She smiles a predator's smile that unconsciously mirrors that of a young Jedi a few months ago on Coruscant.

**Z'ambique's surface**

If he was a lesser man, Taliesin Croft would've felt slighted for the way that Nola Vorrserrie had abandoned him for Dani Faygan. Her eyes had lit up with pure joy and she had thrown herself in the officer's arms. Dani's joy had mirrored hers.

He gives them their moment.

Dani looks at him as she sees him cutting small piece of bar from the door with Gungi's lightsaber. She nods. "No-No, we're going to have to set that arm. I don't know when we'll be able to get you in bacta, dear," Dani says.

Dani sees fear and then resolve flow into the girl's eyes. "Do it. I can take it."

"Never doubted that you could, sweetie," Dani says, kissing Nola on the forehead. The operation takes less than five minutes. As soon as they are finished. Dani brings Croft's head down to her for a brief kiss. "Thank you for coming back for my foster-sister, heart of my heart."

Nola's eyes take in the scene. She knows what that term means. She looks at Croft with new respect.

But doesn't let him off of the hook for snark. "So, if we're all done with the foreplay, could we, oh I don't know, maybe get out of here?"

Both Dani and Croft's eyes roll towards the ceiling. "Brat," Dani says.

"Don't judge, Dani. I have seen you bring home some winners." Her eyes soften. "Although, some day, you will introduce me to the heart that he is the heart of."

"You can count on it. I think that you will approve of her."

They notice that Croft's eyes are closed. They snap open. "Might get to introduce her sooner, rather than later."

Nola notices the emotion of Dani's eyes, of the color shift to black. She smiles. Her smile darkens at Croft's next words.

"We need to go. Dani, take Nola and try to find your way back to the ship. If you meet up with Ti, all the better."

"What about you, Tal?" Dani asks, as she hands him his lightsaber. His smile is one of pure malice. "I'm going to salt the earth."

"What about Captain Tone?" Nola says, gesturing to his body. "We can't leave him here. He deserves a decent burial."

Croft looks at her. "Nola, I'm sorry. We can't take him with us. I have to get you out of here."

She starts to dig her heels in. "I am not going anywhere without him, Croft. He gave his life for me. I am the reason he is dead."

He walks over to her. "Nola, the reason that he is dead, is that a fat Separatist sociopath decided to kill him. You are not the reason he is dead."

"But..."

"Nola. I am sure that he appreciates how you feel. He would not want you to get killed trying to get his body out of here." He pauses, his eyes tracking to the floor. "This is the hardest lesson I have had to learn, leading these men in battle." He looks back up at her. "These men don't have much. But they have their rituals. To them a dead brother is merely 'marching far away.' When I once got angry because of how the Kaminoans treated their dead, I told them to give their brother a decent burial."

He pauses. "They told me that they didn't know what that meant. To them, as long as they recited their Remembrance, their brothers were alive."

The tears in her eyes match his own. "When we get out of this, I will teach you the words. The litany of Remembrance. I will Remember Tone with you. As will Dani."

Croft sees her shivering in the rags she is clad in. He removes his suit coat and places her good arm through it, draping the remainder over her injured arm.

He walks over to Tone and kneels. She hear him speak a few words in a beautiful, but sharp-edged language. He places his hands over Tone's eyes. When he rises, she sees that the officer's eyes are finally closed.

She wipes her tears away. She picks up a droid blaster with her left hand. Dani does the same. "I'll see you when I see you, Daaineran. Take care. Get to the ship. If I ain't there when you hear a loud noise, beat feet for the nearest Corellian or Republic outpost."

"Tal...."

"No argument, Dani. Your number one job is to get the hell out of here and get Nola back to Naboo." He looks her in the eye. "If I am late, tell my Master..." He pauses and gathers himself. "Tell your heart that I am sorry for my anger and for what I said. She made me what I am."

Nola walks over to him and slings her blaster. She reaches up to his cheek with one hand and pulls him to her. She kisses him. "I think she made something fairly incredible, Hero."

She turns and walks out in the corridor, a determined look on her face.

Dani's kiss is much more prolonged, accompanied by an exchange of quick touches. "Keep it warm for me, Hero," she says, a crooked smile on her face.

He matches the smile. "Always, love."

She grows serious. "What did you say, just now over the trooper?" Her eyes glisten. "It wasn't your Remembrance."

"I told him he could rest easy. I have her and I have the watch."

She looks at Tone's face, with his now-closed eyes. She nods and gently smiles again.

XXXXX

Shaak Ti and Drop start to sprint as they approach the base. Shaak's lightsaber deflects the desultory blasts from the remaining droids. Drop slags the blaster-wielders without a second look. They glance at one another. "Ain't many out here, General. They must be all after the pup."

Shaak smirks. "Let's hope his bite keeps them at bay until we get here."

"My money's on Dani, General. Croft has too many bad habits. Habits of bleeding everywhere."

"She has her moments as well, Drop." He sees her eyes grow more concerned. "They'll take care of each other, General Ti," he says quietly as they unconsciously increase speed. As they do, explosions start to rock the perimeter as two ships roar in from opposite directions.

"Wonderful," Drops says. "The scum are here."

"Now, Drop. Be nice," Ti says. "They are probably Tal's only friends."

"He does have a way with people."

XXXXX

Lassa Rhayme surveys the Separatist base. She and her backup pilot, a young Wookiee, jig the Opportunity from east to west. Adis' gunners make short work of any droids or rising STAPs and fighters attempting to rise from the flames.

Flames caused by a small, disk-shaped pursuit craft running on the north to south axis. She smiles. _Pour it on, dear. We'll make this work._

A new voice breaks into her reverie. "Skipper, got two lifeforms moving fast toward the base. Quick scan indicates a Togruta and a human-template," says the backup navigator, standing at her and Gungi's shoulders. The Nikto's eyes narrow at the repeater screens above them. "Got skin paints on droids approaching them, pretty fast."

"Signal _Banshee_. Form on the leader and attack targets of opportunity. Make sure they know about those two idiots."

A bark from her right warns her. "I know, Fuzz. Probably a Jedi. Doesn't make me think less of them because they're idiots."

XXXXX

Croft's arms tire as his saber dismantles a regular supply of B1 attackers. He makes his way towards the main reactor complex from his half-remembered perusal of Separatist prefab base schematics. His left arm hangs limp from a missed blaster bolt block. _Really need to work on your katas, rather than experimenting with new recipes and giving certain pirate captains a seeing-to every night._

 _Reverse grip is still the king of battle,_ though, he incongruously thinks.

He finds himself at the reactor space door. His limp left hand makes a slight gesture. A droid's discarded blaster follows him as his saber opens the door. He closes his eyes for a moment. He smiles as he feels a slight presence that he has only felt in its absence for the last few months.

 _I'm here, Taliesin,_ his Master's voice says in his head. _We have your back. We'll get Dani and Ms. Vorrserrie to the ships._

 _We, Master?_ he thinks.

 _Drop says to tell you that you are still useless,_ she says with a smirk in her mind-voice.

Croft smiles, but it fades. _Master, I..._

 _No time, Taliesin,_ Ti's voice in his head says. _I know,_ she finishes _._

He takes the blaster in hand and removes the power pack. He pulls three of the four overload dowels from the pack. The fourth, he gingerly pulls about three-quarters of the way out. He replaces the ammo pack. _Get everybody clear, Master. Now!_

He starts to follow his own advice. He pulls up short. _Dammit. She's right. I can't leave him here either._

He turns back to the cells.

 _Taliesin_! he hears in his mind. _Don't do anything stupid...._

_Too late._

XXXXX

Dani and Nola advance towards the exit. More B1s block their way, but both women make short work of them. Dani smiles as she sees the young Naboo reciting names as she fires the heavy blaster with her weak hand. The names seem to be one word, descriptors of particular examples of stalwart soldiers and guardians. They pull up short to round a corner. As they do, they hear a humming sound, as well as blaster fire. Dani smiles; her heart skipping a beat as she feels a certain signature. Ti is smiling as she turns the corner. She hastily sheathes her saber as Dani falls into her arms. For a brief moment, their lips are melded together. Nola smiles at the pair.

She looks at the larger example of those stalwarts next to her. She can hear the smile in his voice. "We may be awhile, ma'am. My name is Drop."

She takes his hand in her left one. "Pleased to meet you, Drop. I'm Nola." She smirks. "I'm the one that caused all of this trouble."

"Looks like you are a big helping of trouble, ma'am. But I take care of Jedi. I am used to trouble." He walks over and taps the tall Togruta on the shoulder. "General, I would be glad to spring for a room for you two, but I think that we need to go. Your Padawan is trying to blow shit up."

Ti breaks free. She rests her forehead on Dani's. "Yes, my impudent lad. I hear you. Let's get out of here."

Nola is looking at Ti and Dani. "I take it this is your 'heart,' Dani?" she says with a smile. Dani matches her smile. "Yes. Master Shaak Ti, this is Nola Vorrserrie. My foster-sister."

Ti holds her hand out, but Nola walks to her and embraces her with one arm. "Thank you," she whispers against Ti's cheek. Ti pulls her in tight.

They break away. "Let's go. We don't have much time," Ti says gently. She touches the young woman's hair.

XXXXX

Croft is swinging his saber as Captain Tone's body floats behind him. B1s and the occasional B2 fall before him. He pulls up short at the final corridor and exit to the outside. A droideka stands there, blocking the hatch. The droideka opens up on him. He easily deflects the bolts, but he is losing time.

He reaches out to the Force. He can see the three overload dowel receptacles glowing with the pent up energy. The fourth is shaking its way out with the energy. Couple of more minutes.

He visualizes the dowel. The droideka advances. Croft runs and leaps as his mind pulls the remaining safety out. He closes his eyes as he and Tone are propelled forward.

By the explosion.

XXXXX

Ti and her refugees reach Croft and Dani's ship. They head up the ramp. She stops. She closes her eyes. Dani looks at her. "Shaak?"

She opens them. "Get out of here. I am going back for Taliesin."

"Shaak, no!" Dani screams. Drop grabs her. "Dani, I need you to fly this bucket out of here."

"But..." the officer says. "Sweetie, I know both of them," the Null says gently. "If anyone can come out of this covered in gold, those two can. Trust them."

She gives the Togruta one last look and turns into the ship.

XXXXX

Ti is rocked by the explosion. She senses Croft being thrown outwards by it, as well as the body of a trooper. She throws her hands out and catches them both; lowering them to the ground. Her hands raise above her head, shielding all of them from the cascading debris.

She yanks the two towards her. She kneels by Croft as he comes to rest on his back. He is unconscious, but still holding his saber. She gently takes it from him and touches his forehead. His mind is reeling from the explosion. She sends some of her energy to calm him. She sees his face relax.

She turns toward the remains of the base. Remaining droids on foot and STAPs are rallying and heading towards their position. She ignites her saber and takes a breath. She counts at least three score of the enemy. All approaching her.

She closes her eyes. _I'm sorry, Dani. I tried._

Her thoughts are interrupted by a screaming noise. She looks first at the approaching droids, as their line erupts in explosions and fire.

A small circular craft roars over, engaging the remaining droids. She hears a heavier, deeper roar behind her. A black CR-90, with red and gold trim rotates as its rear cargo ramp comes down. Her eyes lock with a tall figure on the ramp. A tall, blue skinned figure dressed in simple shipboard clothing.

Ti can tell without looking that this is the captain of the vessel. She lifts Croft and the trooper with her mind and walks to the ramp.

"Hello," the Pantoran woman says, her bronze eyes locking on Ti's violet ones. "I believe you have my ship's cook there."

"That's interesting. He is also my former Padawan," Ti replies with a smile. The Pantoran smirks. "I'd like him back, Master Jedi, if I may. He makes pretty good grub. My crew might mutiny."

Ti answers with her own smirk. "He has other talents, as well, Captain. But," she says. "I think we can work something out."

"I am acquainted with a few of those other talents," Lassa says, her eyes laughing at Ti's subsequent eyeroll.

The ship flairs and heads for space.

**Separatist Frigate _Resurgent_  
Low Z'ambique Orbit**

Durd's tactical droid stands on the bridge of his heavy frigate. He has not heard from General Durd. The base has been destroyed; its droid battalions scattered.

This has been an effort of little profit or tactical gain.

Another droid at the scanner signals to him. He looks at the screen. A small pursuit craft, a Republic shuttle, a Corellian gunship and the heavy CR-90 are gaining speed to clear the planet.

 _Perhaps something can come of this_ , he thinks.

He orders his gunners to open fire on all of the ships.

He can see hits on all them. If he could, he would smile.

"Prepare the tractor beam. Lock on the gunship. It was seen at the base."

As the crew prepares, alarms sound as five large shapes appear around the frigate.

CR-90s.

Identical to the pirate ship.

Accept for one difference. They are all painted with a broad, dark green stripe around the hull.

Corellians.

"Signal from the lead ship, Commander," says a crew-droid.

A gravelly voice; a mixture of the owner's homeworld and the Outer Rim, echoes from the speakers, "Separatist vessel. This is the Corellian Security Service. Stand off or be fired upon."

"Corellian vessels," the tactical droid responds. "You are neutral in this conflict. Those are Republic vessels. Stand off."

"There are Corellian citizens on those vessels. We have the right under our neutrality agreements to defend our citizens wherever they may be in danger." He pauses, a particular type of smile heard in his voice to anyone who could understand it. "I haven't started an interstellar war in a while. I think I am due. You have twenty seconds."

The droid sees the other ships jump away. He turns to the navigator. "Plot a jump for Sullust. We'll rendezvous with the Fleet."

"Good choice, clanker," comes over the speaker as the Resurgent jumps away.

Draq' Bel Iblis turns to the Captain of the CorSec ship. "Get me to the rendezvous."

As the little flotilla prepares to jump, he sees a small ship emerge from hyperspace. A shining, silver dart. The dart heads for the atmosphere.

**Rendezvous Point  
Free Vessel _Opportunity_**

Taliesin Croft slowly awakens. The feeling and resonance of his Master lingers in his mind. He touches his forehead where he had felt her lips, as well as her brief invocation against his skin in that state between waking and unconsciousness.

He looks up into the bronze eyes of Lassa Rhayme. He struggles to sit up. She gently lays a hand on his chest. "Rest, Tal." She helps him raise his swimming head. A pair of furry arms places a pillow behind it.

He looks into the somber eyes of his Padawan. The young Wookiee places his hand against Croft's head and closes his eyes. Croft struggles to push the hand away, knowing what it would cost Gungi. A feeling of warmth and well-being flows through his head.

Gungi lifts his hand. His eyes travel downward as he hears his Master's next words.

"Master Ti....."

Lassa smiles. "She brought you here, Tal. She had to leave to make sure Nola got back to her people." Her hand moves to his cheek. "She seems to love you a great deal." Her bronze eyes look through him. "I think I understand you more, Tal, seeing who made you."

His eyes track downward. "Yeah. She made an ungrateful ass."

"She doesn't seem to think so. In fact, she said to me that you were the best thing to ever happen to her." She smirks. "Or at least you were tied for the best, whatever that means."

For the first time, Tal smiles. A smile of secret knowledge. Hope she had time with the other 'tie.'

Lassa kisses him. "Need to go see everybody off, Tal. You need to rest."

Tal's eyes close. He feels a furry hand seize his. Gungi sits next to him, keeping vigil.

XXXXX

Nola Vorrserrie hugs her father to her tightly. As tightly as he holds her. Draq' and Dani stand watching the reunion.

"You did good, Dragon. Thanks for coming through for my sis."

"Should I bill the Jedi? Or just Croft, personally?" he says with a smirk. She punches his chest.

"That's the cheap bastard I have come to know and love," she retorts. He brings her to his chest. He doesn't say the word on his lips.

 _Daughter_.

She doesn't say her word as well.

Neither of them notice a blue-skinned Pantoran pirate watching them from the airlock. Her bronze eyes narrowing.

She turns and leaves the Corellian ship, her mind stewing over possibilities. She shakes her head and shoves the thoughts to the back of her mind.

XXXXX

Asajj Ventress looks down at the young Jedi sleeping. Her emotions are all over the spectrum. Lassa walks in and turns her around in her arms. She kisses the Dathomiri gently. "Can you stick around love, for a bit?"

"Sorry, Lassa. I can't. Got a line on a Volpai on your homeworld. Swindled somebody. Pissed somebody off royally. I can't afford not to take it."

The Pantoran smiles sadly. "I understand." Asajj kisses the Pantoran again. Their breathing increases as the kisses grow more deep and their tongues duel. Lassa gasps as Asajj's lips move down to her open shirt, trailing over her breasts.

"Would you like the guy with the concussion to give you both the room?" Croft drawls from the bed.

Both women break apart slowly. Lassa takes her time closing her shirt.

"If you weren't afflicted, you might get to join in, Cook." she says.

Asajj saunters over to him. "It's been fun, Thug. You can fight with me anytime."

"For or against?"

"Either one."

She reaches down and brings her lips to his. His eyes close. Lassa rolls hers.

They break away. "We'll always have the cargo bay, Tal," the Dathomiri says softly.

Lassa's eyes widen. "Your hands were bound. Both of you. Behind your backs. How....?"

Both of them smirk. Croft puts his hands behind his head, a smug look on his face.

"A gentleman never tells."

**Z'ambique**

Lok Durd limps away from the remains of his base. He tries to hold the remains of his hands up as he moves. He looks down at them. The palms are split from the center to where his fingers spread from the hands.

Ripped as he desperately tried to escape the trap that the Zeltron bitch had left him in.

He had just managed to escape before the base disintegrated. He can only hope that Dooku might send a ship for him or he can find one.

 _More likely the latter,_ he thinks. Maybe he shouldn't try to go back to the Separatists.

He curses as he trips and sprawls in the sand. _If I never see another humanoid woman, especially a Naboo or a Zeltron, it will be too soon._

Several shadows touch the corner of his vision. He looks up. He puts his face back into the sand.

Four women stand there. Four human women. Dressed in almost identical garb to his young prisoner when he took her.

Handmaidens of Naboo.

"Greetings, General Durd. I bring greetings from Queen Neeyutnee of Naboo. She wishes to meet you in person to discuss your hospitality for our young sister." The lead Handmaiden's eyes harden. "As well as various issues from your last visit to our home, a dozen years ago."

Another shadow comes into view. A Republic trooper, his white armor trimmed in blue. A pair of stylized eyes rise above his visor. He looks at Durd like a pinned slug. "If they tire of you General, I am sure the Republic will want you. I bring the compliments of Captain Tone."

Durd starts to sob in the sands. The Handmaidens and Captain Rex stare at him impassively.

**Naboo  
One month later**

Nola Vorrserrie kneels in a high chamber in the Palace of Theed. She looks over to her left. Her family stands there, swelling with pride. Senator Padme' Amidala stands with them, her own pride and love evident on her beautiful features.

A warmth flows through her body as she sees her foster sister standing slightly away from them. Pold Vorrserrie sees her look. He turns to Dani and pulls her over to join them, hugging her tightly.

There is a noise in front of her. The Queen's Handmaidens enter and flank the young woman. She tries to fight back tears of joy and remembrance. Her right arm is free of pain.

She is clad in a simple white shift. A shift given to her in the private, secret ceremonies the night before, in the traditions of the Handmaidens.

She holds her head up as the young Queen walks up. She and her attendants are clad in rich robes of gold and scarlet.

Neeyutnee places her hands on Nola's shoulders. "Nola Vorrserrie. You have been examined by your sisters for this installation among their number. Your recent trials in the assistance of innocents, has brought you to our attention, even though," she smiles dryly, "your humor and ability to keep your peers true with your honesty has already marked you." There is a ripple of laughter as two handmaidens bring an ornate robe and help Nola to don the robe. She had already answered the questions required and sworn the oath in the night's ceremonies.

As soon as she is wearing the robe and the hood over her hair, the Queen pulls her to her feet and embraces her, giving her a brief kiss on each cheek.

"Rise, Nole'. Handmaiden of Naboo."

There is applause. Her brother places his fingers in his lips and gives a long, loud whistle. She rolls her eyes.

"Do you have anything to ask, as a celebration of your installation, Handmaiden?" the Queen asks.

"Your Majesty, I beg an indulgence. When I was captive, several people came to my assistance." All smile at her steadfast refusal to name it as a rescue. "The first, a Grand Army of the Republic trooper, Captain Tone, was senselessly murdered. Through the efforts of the Jedi, we were able to recover his remains."

She bows her head and gathers herself. "He has no place to rest. He would be cast off by the Kaminoans. I ask that we allow him to rest here on Naboo, in a suitable peaceful place. My father," she smiles with pride at him, "has agreed to pay for the maintenance of the resting place."

Her eyes glisten. "We couldn't bring all of his brothers home. To the survivors, they are 'marching far away."

"To me, they are my brothers." She can't meet the Queen's eyes as her voice breaks. "I will recite their litany every day of my life. Their names. I merely ask that Captain Tone has a place on Naboo to call home, for all of his brothers on Z'ambique."

There is silence. A gradual smile flows over the Queen's face. "Well asked. I am proud of you. We grant this indulgence with one exception."

Nola's eyes widen. The Queen is still smiling. "Your father should not have to maintain this home for the Captain. Naboo owes these troopers more than we can say. Let this be a small symbol for them."

Nole', a Handmaiden once known as Nola Vorrserrie, finally breaks and cries.

In the back of the chamber, a figure in a brown hooded robe nods. His bearded visage and green eyes are marked by a crooked grin.

He bows to the new Handmaiden.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. From such pursuits I come back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ex-Jedi determines she is not cut out for the food service industry. A pirate and a Jedi attempt to forge an agreement among pirates to aid the Republic, all while their own partnership travels a rocky road.
> 
> A relationship changes and all receive horrifying news about an adversary, a partner, a ally when in need of one, and a lover.
> 
> All in the last two months of the Republic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a little sooner. Want to get ahead on chapters in the next story. Next chapter will probably post on Friday.

**  
** **Empire Day ~ -60 days**  
****  
**Garel**

Ahsoka Tano grimaces as she takes a sip of the cheap beer at the fine establishment she has found herself in. She sits at the bar, her back uncharacteristically to the door.

_Congratulations, Tano. It is your name-day. You are now officially an adult in the Galactic Republic. This is your life. Sitting in a cheap dive, drinking cheap, watery beer. The only thing that you own to your name._

_Literally_. She smirks as she draws the purloined cloak tighter around her body.

_Well, you do sorta own this cloak, now. Plus the pair of underwear that seems to be your only other clothing._

She sighs and thinks of her clothing and a duffel with everything that she owns sitting in a locker in a bar down the way.

A bar down the way in which she cannot go back to reclaim her belongings. Something about pouring a drink over a sleemo's head.

The same sleemo who had taken it upon himself to pinch her on the ass in her abbreviated waitress's costume.

Of course, if she was being honest with herself, the drink on his head was a by-product of her smashing the glass down on his skull while he was sitting there with a smug grin on his face.

A costume that she had torn off and dropped on the floor when the owner had fired her and told her to apologize to the sleemo. It had felt good for about five seconds when she had stalked out, her meager tips in her hand.

She had noticed that the other cocktail waitresses had given her surreptitious smiles and nods as she stalked out, as the owner attempted to staunch the blood from the customer's head.

It had felt good until she realized that she was standing in the street in her underwear with five credits to her name. That she had probably given the sleemos more of a show than they deserved.

She had steeled her conscience as a laundry cart passed by with the red cloak resting on top. Fortunately she had not attracted too much attention in the busy street - especially those in any type of institutional garb.

She had walked into the next bar and spent the five credits on the pitcher of flavored water that she was drinking. She knew that she wouldn't even get a buzz off of this thin beer as a Force-sensitive.

She downs another glass as she thinks about what had brought her to Garel in the first place.

_Sticking my nose in other people's business on Coruscant in the undercity._

Apparently every other job she had skills for on the world that she had enough credits for passage to was taken. So she had taken one that she was probably temperamentally unsuited for, in the food service industry.

_Probably not suited to be polite to sleemos as a cocktail waitress after protecting others from said sleemos only a few months or so ago._

Her eyes sink down to her hands on the bar. She knows that she can go in and take her belongings back, but would probably call attention to herself to the Jedi. The Order frowns on Force-users, especially those who left under what the Council would term 'a cloud,' using those powers on ordinary citizens.

Even ordinary citizens who would have frequented that bar.

As she contemplates the back of her hands, several of her powerful senses assault her with a warning. _Okay, maybe not a warning._

Her huntress's sense of smell is peaked by a familiar scent. The same scent that resided on the shoulder holsters of her twin blasters - a gift from the owner of the particular scent.

Her montrals resonate with a particular breathing pattern. One that she had known from the Hunt on her world, as well as sparring with the arcane weapons of her former life. A breathing pattern that is slow and regular. The heart rate is another story, as it is elevated slightly.

Finally, the supernatural sense that she was born with is buzzing in her head. The sense that sets her and the bearer of this familiar signature apart from most of the galaxy.

Her heart begins to equal that other's slightly accelerated relative heart rate. She doesn't need any supernatural senses to hear the familiar drawl.

"Grown a little bit, Runt."

She turns.

Taliesin Croft stands there, his warm grin on his face. A warm grin at odds with the emotions playing in his eyes. The pain and loss. The love and respect for his hunt-sister.

She is careful to keep her robe closed as she hurls herself from her barstool into his arms.

The language of her birth in his familiar deep halting cadence resonates in her montrals.

The familiar, formal greeting of a hunt-brother for his hunt-sister

She mirrors the language, but is too overwhelmed for the formality

" _Baa'je_ ," she simply whispers, as she squeezes her eyes tight. He smiles at the familiar nickname. A nickname born of a Hunt that seems like a lifetime ago.

He hugs her tighter. Something dampens the shoulder of her cloak.

XXXXX

Lassa Rhayme sits at a table on another pirate ship, trying to convince her fellow pirate captains that Taliesin Croft is an honorable man and that the Republic will honor the terms of letters of marque after the war.

She grits her teeth as she hears the grating voice of a human captain rail against the Republic, the Jedi, her Jedi toy, and Lassa's success.

She does what any self-respecting rival pirate captain would do, if she can't shoot him between the eyes.

She tunes him out.

The Pantoran lets an expression of neutral interest flow onto her beautiful features. She thinks about her Jedi 'toy' who had just rolled his eyes and walked out.

Walked out to allow her to listen and talk to her pirates without him. She smiles. He trusts her; that she knew what he could and couldn't authorize in any agreement.

It hadn't been always so in the last few months, as their partnership had had its ups and downs.

The downs culminating in her ejecting him from her ship for about two months. He and his Padawan, a young Wookiee named Gungi, who, if Lassa was being honest with herself, had wormed his furry way into her pirate's heart, with his growing skill and loyalty to Croft, and by extension, her.

They had taken another of the gunnery crew with them, a young Zeltron, who under any other circumstances, would have found herself in Lassa's bed. The Zeltron, whose name escapes Lassa had asked to leave when they left. Something about wanting to watch over the young Wookiee. The Zeltron hadn't struck her as the maternal type; more likely she had wanted to see if she could get Croft ensnared between her legs. Lassa had grudgingly assented. Something had seemed a bit off about the woman during the raid on Z'ambique.

Lassa shakes her head slightly. Those two months had resulted in her being charmed by another Pantoran; a Pantoran who had found himself in her bed and in the office of Quartermaster.

Her choice had come as close to getting her voted out as she ever had, as it was soon revealed that he was a thief who had managed to make off with a huge haul of cash and the heiress they were going to take it from before stealing away.

She had engaged Asajj Ventress and her new apprentice bounty hunter, a smartassed Kiffar named Vos to find the former quartermaster. Asajj had come through easily, bringing the Quartermaster and the money that he hadn't pissed away back.

All it had cost had been some credits and a bottle from her precious stash of Tevraki whiskey. Her last bottle. _Whyren's Reserve, from there on out._

She smiles. Croft hadn't minded when he came back.

_No more Pantorans_ , she swears to herself. They are either snobs like Papanoida, thieves like 'loverboy', or egomaniacal, deadbeat assholes like her father.

Or all three.

The crew did not speak of what had happened to loverboy. She had lost a bit of credibility with them. They hadn't called a vote, but made it plain that they would have a say in the next quartermaster, after her last couple of unfortunate choices in that area.

Her own pilot, now Chief Engineer, had been the most adamant about that. Thorin Secura had told her in no uncertain terms that he would challenge her, if she didn't. Things had chilled in what had been a warm friendship and working relationship.

Of course, someone was also fomenting dissension against the letters of marque from the Republic. She thought that she had gotten rid of the malcontents with the firing of the engineer, Geikha after she had seen the state of the hyperdrive when it went down.

Around the time of the crew's discussions, Croft, the Wookiee, and the Zeltron had come back. Both Croft and the Zeltron were nursing knife and blaster wounds; the Wookiee had lost some fur.

Croft had not asked to come back, but she found herself offering his old job back. She had raised her credibility with her crew, as all three had been popular with them and had proven themselves as high earners.

Her gunner, Adis, in particular had been overjoyed to get his best gunner's mate and his ace weapons mechanic back.

Croft and she had circled each other warily, he staying in a bunk in the gun room and she giving him the silent treatment, until one day, he had walked into her quarters uninvited.

Her indignation and anger had lasted all of five minutes before they were pulling each others' trousers off on her new sideboard and he was thrusting into her; her nails scoring his back under his shirt.

Fortunately, no bottles of whisky or glassware were harmed in the production of those orgasms.

He no longer stayed in the gunnery spaces.

She starts as she realizes the room has gone silent. She fumbles for a moment. "You've given me a lot to think about, Captain Alshon. We'll be in touch."

He looks hard at her. "How the hell can you expect us to sign on to this thing when you can't even get your own crew to vote to approve it, Rhayme?"

Her eyes flash. "Who the hell told you that, Alshon?"

"Don't worry about that. I don't trust a captain who can't get her crew in line with her nor can get her own ship's hyperdrive up to even get out of here."

Fortunately, their weapons had been piled up outside. "I will persuade my crew, Alshon. You worry about your own piece-of-shit junkheap."

She had hastily left to find Croft. She knew she didn't have to worry too much about what Alshon said. Most of the other captains thought of him as a useless blowhard. She and Croft could easily rebut anything that came out of his piehole. But if she couldn't figure out who was poisoning the vote against the agreement on her crew and get the _Opportunity's_ hyperdrive up, the whispers would grow to more than just him.

She stops short in front of a dive. Croft is there talking to a young Togruta girl. _No, a young Togruta woman._

In spite of herself, she feels her vision grow red. She calms as she looks at the two of them. Croft is laughing, as light as she had seen him since he had come to _Opportunity_.

Lassa looks at them with deeper interest. She is not a Jedi or an empath. Her skill is that she is a good judge of character (well, mostly, except when she thinks with her nethers) and can read body language. She doesn't sense any inkling that this young huntress is one of Croft's conquests. The looks that they give each other are looks of reunion. Of a deep bond. _Of a teacher and student?_

Maybe at one time. Something deeper. She remembers Croft telling her how he had gotten the teeth on his gunbelt, of his training by his Togruta Master. She thinks back further when she was tracing her fingertips over a scar on his chest. He had told her the story of his young hunt-sister, who had saved his life when he had come out on the bad side of one of the beasts on her world. Of cutting in to his chest so that he could breathe after a collapsed lung.

She looks at the two talking and laughing. She nods to herself in recognition. She walks over.

Croft looks up as she approaches. He pulls his face into a neutral look, but still with a barely concealed expression of joy. Lassa looks at the young Togruta. She looks back at the pirate with wide, but wise blue eyes. Her montrals, the organs that make her a huntress, reach about to Croft's forehead. Lassa can sense intelligence and strength emanating from the young woman.

She can also see the hidden snark in those wise blue eyes. She grins, as she thinks of that snark in a pair of green eyes. _So who taught who to be a smartass?_

"Lassa, this is Ahsoka Tano. She..." He searches for the word. "She is from my previous life. She is also my hunt-sister." Lassa holds out her hand. The strong grip is cool to the touch.

"I am Captain Lassa Rhayme, Tano, of the Free Vessel _Opportunity_. It is a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Croft's is someone I usually have to hold on to my wallet with, but you look a bit classier than that."

The Smirk that flows on the Togruta's face nearly bowls Lassa over with its power.

"I'd feel the same way, knowing him as long as I have."

Croft gives his own grin. "I was an innocent, Captain. Runt here taught me all of the evil that I know."

"Find that hard to believe, Cook," Lassa says drily.

"It is good to meet you, Captain," says Ahsoka.

Lassa takes a good look at her. _Easy on the eyes, too_. She raises her eyebrows at her attire. A red cloak that Tano seems to be holding shut. She catches glimpses of smooth orange skin when she moves.

Lassa looks at Croft. "We were just going to go get her belongings. She kind of ran afoul of her former employer. She left..." He searches for the right word.

Tano finds it for him. "I got fired, Captain, from a budding career as a cocktail waitress. Just need to get my clothes and my money. I could get the gear myself, but don't want to call attention in that way."

_Ahh_ , Lassa thinks. _A Jedi. Or a former one._

She smiles at the young woman's directness. At that moment, she sees something in the young huntress.

In her mind's eye, she sees a young Pantoran runaway, trying to make her way in the galaxy. "Then let's go get your dunnage, Tano. I am not fond of that bar. They've cheated some of my crew."

XXXXX

The three of them walk out into the sunlight. The bar and the owner had escaped any serious damage. In fact the bar owner had graciously acceded to the great Captain Rhayme's request that he give his former employee one week's pay as a fair severance for his shabby treatment of her, as well as access to her belongings. The duffel's lock had not been forced, which Lassa had counted as fortunate. She had merely suggested that members of her crew would make it a point to come here everyday at all times of the day and express their disappointment in the labor practices in place.

Both Croft, who has grown used to it, and Ahsoka look with admiration at Lassa as she 'persuades' the bar owner. Persuasion marked without the use of the Force.

Croft had been left out in the bar area, as Lassa and Ahsoka had gone in the back room so that the Togruta could don her clothes.

Of course, Lassa couldn't refrain from sneaking a glance at the young woman as she changed. Her expression grows troubled as she sees the prominent ribs and shoulder blades on the young woman.

She also sees the harnessed power as well, as Ahsoka had stood looking at her after she had dressed. The same power that Lassa had seen in Croft's Master, Shaak Ti when she had met her during last year's raid.

"Captain, I can't thank you enough for your help," she says as they return to the bar. "I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it, Ahsoka. Croft once told me about you. I get the idea that you are important to him."

"He is very important to me," Ahsoka says. She looks Lassa in the eye. "He is my hunt-brother."

Croft touches Lassa on the arm as they walk up to him. "Lassa, I know this may be a bit much to ask, but since the hyperdrive is down, and we can't go anywhere, could we give Ahsoka a place to stay?"

Lassa looks sharply at him and then Tano. Croft can see the twinkle in her eye. "I don't know. I am not running a youth hostel, Cook. You have any skills, Tano?"

Tano looks her square in the eye. "I am a pretty good pilot and fighter, from my, uh, previous occupation."

"Don't need those right now, since we can't go anywhere. What else? Can you cook?"

The young woman's expression falls and then sharpens at Croft's snort. "I'll take that as a 'no', then," Lassa says.

"Croft said your hyperdrive is down, Captain?"

"Yes. An unfortunate situation. I had to fire a certain Dug, who couldn't engineer to save his life. My new engineer is learning the ropes."

"I am a pretty good mechanic," Ahsoka says. "I've worked on Corellian ships before."

_If you consider some of the shuttles that the Jedi used from Corellian manufacture._

She doesn't add that she has crashed a few Corellian ships as well.

"Tell me, Tano, and you don't have to answer this, but I'd like to know. Is your former occupation the same as my cook's other one?"

Tano looks at the ground again. Lassa's expression softens as she sees the sadness in both Tano's and Croft's eyes.

"Yes," the woman says in a small voice. "I was a Jedi padawan."

Lassa nods. "Then, if you can fix my hyperdrive, you have a place to stay."

The young woman's gratitude is painful. "I will do what you need, Captain. I won't let you down. I don't want charity."

Lassa softens at the earnestness. "Alright then. Let's go."

Croft looks at Ahsoka, then at Lassa. "Captain, if I may. Today is Ahsoka's name day. She is an adult today in the eyes of the Republic, although she has had to do more adult things in her life than most actual adults." Ahsoka gives a bittersweet smile at that. "May I take her to get a good meal? The crew's dinner is fixed."

Good to know about the adulthood. She shakes her head, trying to banish the unbidden thought.

Lassa looks at Croft and smiles. She remembers ribs sticking through smooth orange skin.

She nods. "Tano. Enjoy your day. Report to my engineer, Thorin Secura in the afternoon watch tomorrow."

Both Croft and Ahsoka's eyebrows or eyebrow markings raise at the generosity of the start of the work day.

She watches Croft and his hunt-sister walk off towards the higher end restaurant district. Her eyes narrow as she sees a subtle shift in their body language. She turns and walks to her ship.

XXXXX

As Lassa approaches the _Opportunity_ , she hears a familiar pad of footsteps behind her. She turns, her hand on the blaster in a cross-draw rig. Her former engineer jumps back, as he holds his feet up in front of him.

"What the hell do you want, Geikha?" she asks, her eyes narrowed.

"Just my old job back, Captain. You owe it to me," the Dug says. "You shouldn't listen to everything that your Corellian fuck-toy whispers in your ear when he's inside of you."

"You might want to keep who I fuck out of this. Your own inability to maintain the hyperdrive is what got you sacked."

"It wasn't my fault, Rhayme!" he screams. "Vizago was supposed to be maintaining that thing."

"Really, useless? You're going to blame a subordinate? Funny, he's the one who told me I should take a look at the hyperdrive myself when it went down."

Geikha's eyes bulge in anger and surprise. Lassa's hand strays to her belt again. He backs off from her. "You're gonna regret the day that you crossed me, Captain. Mark my words. You and Croft are going to pay."

"Whatever, Dug. Don't come near my crew, my ship, or me again, or I will end you," she says, a hint of dark warning in her eyes.

With that, she turns and walks to the ship. Geikha sneers. He sees a figure beckon to him and point in the opposite direction of the road. His face breaks into a sinister smile as he walks in the indicated direction.

XXXXX

Croft and Ahsoka walk through the lamplit streets. Their laughter sounds through the dark as they walk to the ship.

Croft had taken her to the best restaurant in the city, one he had eaten at on every occasion that the _Opportunity_ had made planetfall. He had cultivated a relationship with the chef and the maitre'd. The chef had actually let him learn some recipes to use for Lassa when she was pissed at him.

Fortunately, the chef had taught him a good number of recipes.

The relationships had paid off when he had commed for a sudden reservation. They had also helped when Ahsoka's vest and trousers had not exactly met the dress code.

They had helped a tiny bit.

He smirks as he remembers the look that she had given the hostess when she had said that her clothes were too worn for their clientele. Her look had then turned thoughtful. She had seized the lapels of his black mid-length leather coat and pulled it off, leaving him in dress shirt and work trousers. She walked to the 'fresher. He had smiled his most charming smile at the hostess and had dropped the chef's name. She of course had rolled her eyes.

Until they had widened at something over his shoulder. He turned slowly. His breath caught.

His hunt sister had stood there, a hopeful smile on her face. She had pulled his coat on and had zipped it up to her midriff, spreading the lapels.

Without her vest and trousers.

He is sure that he is staring at what the open coat gives glimpses of.

He brings his eyes up to her face. Her hopeful smile turns into the one that a predator would use. He closes his eyes, knowing that he has Stupid Grin # 6 as she had once called it on his face. He opens his eyes and realizes he is looking at her bare legs above the ubiquitous boots and the bottom of his coat.

She walks over to him and takes his arm. She looks at the hostess and clearly says, "Table for two. With a good view."

The hostess had nodded approvingly. "Very beautiful ma'am," she had said, before turning to him. "Close your collar, sweetie, as well as your mouth."

He could feel the heat coming off of both of their faces.

Of course, the hundred-credit tip hadn't hurt. He had sat in the chair opposite the huntress as she had demolished three separate entrees.

_Well_ , he thinks to himself, _demolished was a strong word._ Her table manners had improved greatly since he had eaten at Dex's with her. That long ago day before he had left for Corellia.

A fairly incredible feat considering her Master had been Anakin Skywalker. Maybe Kenobi's influence had been as important as Skywalker's.

Their conversation had been light; with no discussion of their past year's experiences. Both had seen the guarded pain in each other's eyes. They had avoided the past, except for things that had brought laughter.

There were plenty of those memories. But many of them would have lead to other emotions if they had let them.

All the while he was listening to her and laughing, he had realized that he was looking at her differently, as her beauty seizes him by his throat and punches him in the jaw.

Something he had never noticed before. _Thankfully_.

As he paid the check, he realized how much joy he would get submitting his expense report to the Jedi. Of listing her as an 'informant.'

Both of them start as their Force-senses whisper a slight warning. Croft's eyes narrow. Ahsoka sees his expression, moves her arm from where it had been resting through his.

"Hello, Croft," comes a strangely pitched voice. They see the owner of the voice standing in front of them.

The Dug former engineer of the _Opportunity_. Croft's hands move to his waist. He snaps the restraining snap away from over the blaster. Ahsoka crabs right; putting distance between them.

"What do you want, Geikha?" Croft asks.

"Revenge, Croft. I know it was you who turned Lassa against me. You cost me a good job."

"No, asshole. Your inability to maintain a hyperdrive in working condition on a ship whose crew's lives depend on it cost you your job."

Ahsoka looks at Croft. "I take it he's the reason I have a job."

"Yep. You're going to be working on cleaning his shit up for a good while, Runt."

The Dug moves closer, his inverted gait moving him slowly but deliberately towards them. "What do you mean, Croft? Your new slut thinks she is going take my job?"

Croft's anger flares. Ahsoka puts her hand on his arm."Easy, Tal. Remember Fael on the _Akul_ hunt. I don't need you to fight my battles for me," she says softly.

Unaccountably, her cool hand on his arm unsettles him, but keeps him from doing something stupid.

At least for the moment.

"No, Geikha. Thorin took your job. Ahsoka is here to fix the mess that you made of the ship."

"Bah! Thorin is nothing but a pretty boy. He knows nothing about being a chief engineer."

"Well, no one could accuse you of being a pretty boy, Geikha."

The Dug's anger flares. He snaps his toes. "It is good to know that this little Togruta bitch is supposedly fixing the hyperdrive. It would be unfortunate if she was to meet with a tragic accident before she could. Lassa might have to turn back to me."

Croft looks at Ahsoka. "Okay, Runt. He has called you a slut and a bitch. Can I break him now?"

Ahsoka smiles up at him. "You're such a Corellian, Bait. I think that the point is moot." She jerks her head around them.

Several large beings approach them from all sides. "I'll take the five on the right, Bait," Ahsoka says. "You can take the three on the left."

"That doesn't seem fair, Runt."

"Not to them, maybe. But you are getting older."

"Brat."

It is over fairly quickly, with little fuss. Ahsoka's five rush her, thinking she is the easier target.

A painful underestimation, as she sends three front kicks to the faces of the first lucky three contestants to reach her in quick succession. A Force push to the other two sends one's knee in into the nearest wall and the one's head into the same wall.

Croft barely manages to handle his three, so entranced as he is by her grace and the bare orange skin exposed as the skirts of his coat whirl.

He manages to muddle through without drawing the DL-44 or his lightsaber.

Three broken kneecaps, an arm whose angle doesn't appear to occur in nature, and four concussions later, the Dug is running away at top speed.

Croft looks at Ahsoka, an unreadable expression on his face. "What?" Ahsoka says, a curious expression on his face.

He looks down. "Nothing."

_Except for the fact that you were magnificent. You have grown so much more than in height._

_Not just in skill,_ as his eyes track to places they shouldn't, as she tries to catch her breath from the fight. As those places heave with the attempt. He turns his head.

She turns to walk to the ship. He shakes his head. _Come on dumbass. What is wrong with you? I know you missed her, but you're acting like an idiot._

Her own thoughts are in turmoil as she analyzes his fumbling behavior, as well as her own. She had barely raised her heart rate during the fight. _Why is it racing and why am I breathing like I have run twenty kilometers?_

Her own head shakes. _Come on, Tano. You're acting like an idiot._

Croft's comm beeps. He looks at the screen. She sees his face goes pale. He walks to catch up to her. He shows her the comm text. Her eyes close. He pulls her into his arms.

Neither sees the large figure steal into the shadows.

XXXXX

Croft enters Lassa's quarters. She smiles and walks over to him. She stops when she sees his expression. "What is it, Tal?"

"I have bad news, Lassa." He guides her to the couch. He takes a deep breath.

"Asajj Ventress is dead."

The color drains from her face. "How?" she asks quietly.

"I don't have all of the details, but apparently the Jedi had a plan for her and a Jedi Master to assassinate the Separatist leader Count Dooku. She took the brunt of a lightning discharge meant for the Master. She gave her life to save his."

Her bronze eyes flash. "What the hell are Jedi doing involved in an assassination attempt?"

He can't answer. He looks down. "I guess that they were desperate to stop the dying."

"By murdering someone? Helluva an organization you work for Croft," she snarls. Her face is cold. He can tell that she wants to lose control.

He makes to embrace her. To hold her. She pushes him away. "I think you had better go, Croft," she whispers.

"Gungi and I will be gone by morning, Lassa. I just ask that you let Ahsoka stay here until she can find a place to go."

She shakes her head. "No, Taliesin. I just don't want you in here. I am a woman of honor. I will keep my word. We will still continue to get the agreement. I...." She breaks off. Tal can hear the emotion in her voice. "I just don't think that I need you in my cabin or in my bed right now."

He nods. She touches his face. She gently kisses him.

He walks out.

Lassa's tears flow. They flow for a child born in light, who had returned to it at the end.

**The Next Morning**

Lassa walks onto the bridge of the _Opportunity_. Her eyes are hollow; with dark blue circles under her eyes. Thyla looks at her. Her heart skips at Lassa's expression. "You okay, Lassa?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she says softly.

"Not buying it, sweetie. Are you still worried about the crew and this deal?"

"I don't know anymore, Thy," she says.

The Twi'lek feels the heat on her face. "Did Croft do something to you? Did he hurt you?"

Lassa looks shocked. "What? No! Do you think I would let a man hurt me?"

_Well, she does speak the truth_ , the navigator thinks, with a smirk. Half the crew lost money on the fact that Croft hadn't been shot in the first six months.

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing. Just dealing with something. Gotta deal with it on my own."

Thyla nods. "Okay. But if you want to talk, babe."

Lassa nods. "I do have a question, Thy. What has your brother got against me? Why is he stirring up the crew?"

Thyla is silent. "He is still pissed about your Pantoran loverboy. He thinks you used really shitty judgement and put the crew's fortunes at risk."

Lassa's eyes flash. "Then why the hell can't he tell me to my face?"

Thyla stands up. "Lassa, what do you mean?"

"Somebody is stirring up the crew about the privateering. We've had our disagreements. It sounded like stuff he has said before."

"Lassa, Thorin would never stir anybody up against you. He knows that you saved his life and mine when you took us on."

Thyla watches as Lassa rubs the bridge of her nose. Thyla walks over to her and touches her cheek. "We love you, Captain. What is really going on?"

Lassa looks at the deck. In a halting voice, she tells of Ventress' death. She is conscious of Thyla taking her in her arms.

She hears the door open behind them. Her brother walks in, his expression thunderous. Thyla holds up her hand. Thorin raises an eyebrow. Thyla shakes her head and mouths the word 'Asajj' to him. His eyes soften. He walks over and engulfs both women in his arms against his tall frame..

XXXXX

Ahsoka Tano sits up and stretches in her borrowed bunk. She had slept for twelve hours. Longer than she had in over a year.

Of course, her sleep had been broken by her usual nightmares. She had tried to not dream, but the energy needed for that had nearly consumed her sleep for the two weeks she had tried it, leaving her hollowed out and weak.

She lays back in the bunk. It is the most comfortable bed she had slept in since leaving the Jedi. Best of all, she didn't have to worry about anyone killing her in her sleep.

_Well, maybe not._

Her eyes close as she thinks of the news Tal had delivered. Asajj Ventress dead. The woman that she had fought nearly to the death for over two years.

The only person who had helped her when she was on the run and despairing of her future. The snarky, prickly personality who had taken her word that she was innocent and had helped her stay alive.

She had even gone against her nature and had not killed Ahsoka's brothers. Even though they were trying to kill the young woman.

Ahsoka had promised to try to get her a pardon, but after she had thought that Asajj had betrayed her, then her departure from the Temple, she had never had the chance.

She hears the door to the berthing space open. The Force signature that she had felt earlier is amplified as she finds herself with an armful of furry Wookiee.

Ecstatic furry Wookiee.

"Gungi!" she exclaims, a smile splitting her face. She holds him tightly as another remnant of her past life crows in joy.

" _Padawan Tano! I am so glad to see you_."

"It's just Ahsoka, now, Gungi. I am glad to see you, too."

He finally releases her from his rib-squeezing embrace.

"You've grown, Gungi. Pretty soon you'll be way taller than your Master."

" _How have you been, Ahsoka? My Master and I have missed you. We were worried."_

"I have been okay, Gungi. Some rough times, but a few good ones. Tell me, how has Croft been?"

The Wookiee is silent for a moment. " _He has had his own rough times. He is not exactly in the Council's favor right now. He has missed you so much. I'll be working with him on something; he'll get this distant look. It just lasts a moment. I open the training bond, even though he tries to block it. He is thinking of something you and he did in training when you were a youngling and he was a Padawan."_

Gungi bares his teeth in a grin. " _He is a pain in my shebs sometimes, but I am lucky - or I guess I should say that the Force has chosen well._ " Ahsoka smiles at that, as well as the language. Some things never change. " _I have learned so much already; so much that I wouldn't have learned at the Temple or even in battle with a battalion."_

Unaccountably, Ahsoka can feel herself swelling with pride.

She remains silent, but nods with a smile. Her emotions are roiling. She closes her eyes. She feels Gungi's arms circle her and pull her close.

She thinks of her hunt-brother. Of the look on his face last night. Of the unaccountable warmth that she had felt when he had looked at her. Of the warmth she had felt when she had looked at him. She burrows her face in Gungi's furry shoulder.

She refuses to cry. She has not cried since that day she had closed her Master's hands over her beads.

 

 

 

 

 


	10. To the house tired and confused,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion reigns on a pirate ship as relationships change and build.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit more explicit in the next three chapters as emotions and relationships grow.

**Garel Spaceport  
Free Vessel _Opportunity_  
  
**

Ahsoka wanders into the galley. She feels truly clean for the first time in months, after a long shower. She still has a few hours before she reports to the engineer. Croft is slicing nerf-steak into strips to grill. Ahsoka Smirks, as she sits down at the counter. He notices her Smirk. "What?" he says, as he deftly slices the steak.

The Smirk softens into a smile. "I would've never pegged you for a ship's cook."

"Well," he says, pausing in his cutting, "I have always been interested in it. Before I became a Padawan, one of the cooks at the Temple Refectory taught me some things."

Ahsoka makes a face. "I don't know if I would admit that, based on my memories of most of the food there. It was....filling."

Croft replies, "He had been a chef at 500 Republica and the Senate building. Something about getting too close to one of Baron Papanoida's wives."

He notices that Ahsoka is looking at the meat with rapt attention. He knows that if he turned his back, she would scarf a piece, raw or not. She is, after all, a hunter and a carnivore. To keep from losing pieces for dinner, but knowing how hungry she has been (especially after witnessing the three entrees she had polished off at the fancy bistro that he had taken her to the night before), he pulls a small wrapping of cloth from a cabinet. He tosses it to her. "Knock yourself out, but don't spoil your dinner," he cautions her.

Her eyes light up at what is inside. "Spiced _akar_ jerky!" she exclaims, "you remembered!" She takes a bite of a piece with a look of joy.

He is not too worried about her spoiling her dinner. An active Togruta of her age needs a huge amount of calories to maintain energy levels. He has not missed the fact that her clothes, which are unfamiliar to him, are hanging off of her.

He finishes slicing the meat and puts it aside to rest. He sits next to her and bumps shoulders with her. She finishes chewing and pulls closer to him. She looks at him. There is a question formed in her mind that he senses through their ties.

"Ask it," he says.

"Why are you not with SpecOps?" She obliges. "I know that you loved your Commandos and the 332nd."

He sits for a second. "The Council had some problems with how I responded to certain issues," he said. "They felt that I needed perspective."

 _Code word for discipline,_ she thinks.

"So they send you to the Outer Rim to recruit pirates?" She asks incredulously. "Talk about a serious waste of talent."

His eyes lock with hers. "Thanks, Runt," he says simply.

He takes a deep breath. "I think it is actually what I needed." She listens intently. "I have, over the past several months before I came here, felt at odds. Demoralized by what we were becoming as Jedi. I know that many people question the war and our role in it."

He gets up and pulls an ale out of the cooler. After a moment, he grabs one for her.

"I know that many lower ranking Jedi feel that the Council had lost its own perspective, but no one would speak out."

He pauses and takes a swig of his ale. "Your treatment at the hands of the Council and the Republic, only cemented my feelings. If they could do that to you, one of the most promising Padawans since your Master, a powerful war hero, what could they do to anyone else? I lost my temper with a Council member."

He doesn't know if he can continue to meet her gaze. He looks down as he continues, "My feelings of despair, and even darkness at what my Commandos and I were doing in the Outer Rim had overwhelmed me they said. They felt that I needed a change."

He looks in her eyes again. "I disagreed. I felt that I needed to leave the Order behind, much as you did."

Ahsoka's surprise is palpable. She gasps.

"I apparently didn't have your courage," he murmurs. Her eyes nearly overwhelm him with understanding and emotion.

"Tal, you are one of the bravest men I know," she says. "I think that you chose what was right for you, and for Gungi. He is so lucky to have you as a Master."

"I don't know, Runt. He might be better off with a normal Master in the field, or at the Temple, rather than in exile with me. At least I know he is not in the meat grinder."

"He told me that he is extremely happy with you; that he has learned so much from you," she says, smiling. "He says that you are an extremely patient teacher. I knew that from experience already."

"I don't know about that anymore, Ahsoka. I can feel the darkness in me, the anger."

"I don't sense that in you at all, Tal. I sense pain and uncertainty, but not darkness." She smiles, "Besides, I've seen you get pissed off, mainly at something I had done, but I never sensed darkness."

She puts her arm around him and takes his hand in hers. "I have missed you so much, _Baa'je_ ," she says with emotion, "even before I left."

He turns towards her and stands. He pulls her close to him. She encircles him with her arms, much like they had after his Knighting. She looks up at him. As they search each other's eyes, they both feel the flip in the Force; the change. The feelings that they had both felt the night before are multiplied as they hold each other. Their hearts are beating rapidly, as new feelings that had been simmering since they re-connected came to a boil. Feelings of loneliness, of affection, of respect, and of love that were changing subtly as they try to instinctively fight them. Ahsoka reaches up and touches his face. As she does, he gets a glimpse of her reaching to kiss a girl with olive green skin and tribal tattoos on her face. He looks down in shock. She looks at him defiantly, then looks away. He can feel her shame at the girl's betrayal.

She sees him with a blue-skinned Pantoran--the woman who allowed Ahsoka on her ship. She senses pain from both of them; their feelings are buffeted as if in a storm.

He reaches for her face, as well. He sees something in her eyes, as she does in his. Their lips meet and caress each other. He tastes the ale, the spice of the jerky, and something else--something--Ahsoka. The kiss deepens and their tongues are soon touching. Something lurches and they pull away. They look at each other in shock. Ahsoka breaks away and runs for the door. Croft sits down at the counter and looks at the jerky she left behind. He puts his head in his hands.

XXXXX

Ahsoka hurries to her bunk. She sees the grubby coveralls on the thin mattress. She pulls them up to her body.

They are exactly her size. She throws them on the bunk and follows them. Her heart slows down. She thinks of the kiss. Of the shock evident on his face. Shock that she was sure mirrored hers. Her mind tries to analyze her feelings.

She smiles as other parts, much lower down, claims her attention.

She shakes her head. _Nope, can't think about that. Got a job to do._

_Maybe later._

**Two days later**

Ahsoka Tano curses as the wrench slips on the bolt and bangs into her knee. She doesn't even bother using any of her other languages, just good old fashioned Basic. She pulls the wrench out of the tiny, cramped space in the _Opportunity's_ hyperdrive. She then levers her own body out of the same space.

She picks up the discarded food trays and cleans them off. A young Twi'lek woman, her features almost identical to her new boss, except for a deep purple hue, had smiled at her and brought the food when she had refused to leave the hyperdrive.

Thorin Secura had introduced himself as the engineer. A welcoming look had brightened his handsome face. The fatigue had been evident on his azure features. He had brought her to the hyperdrive access conduit. He looked sheepish. "I'm a pilot. I know all of these systems backwards and forwards. I've served on other CR-90s with my sister for a while. Hell, we were born in space. But I know next to nothing about hyperdrives. Apparently I am not the only one, based on the shape the thing is in." He smiles, and looks down at himself; his near two meters in height. "Of course, neither me nor the assistant can fit into the crawl space."

Secura had introduced him to the assistant engineer, a bulky Devaronian named Cikatro Vizago. His surly expression changes a tiny bit as he looks her up and down in her coveralls. He extends his hand. She shakes it firmly.

Ahsoka resists the urge to squeeze back using the Force in his bone crushing grip. He nods approvingly as she doesn't flinch.

She doesn't break anything on him for the inspection, but files it away. "So do you know the system, Vizago?" she asks. His eyes narrow and he turns away, looking disgusted.

She rolls her eyes. "Pay him no mind, Ahsoka. He wanted this job; thought he was entitled to it. He was lucky not to get fired. He was hand selected for the job by Geikha, the previous ChEng. Probably because he made Geikha look good as far as engineering knowledge. But, he may have been responsible for the shape that the thing is in."

"Then why hasn't he gone the way of the previous Chief?"

Thorin's blue eyes smile. "Captain wanted some continuity with the rest of the engineering gang. Lot of dissension in here." His eyes turn angry. "Course, there may be good reason for some of it."

Ahsoka's eyebrow markings raise at that. Thorin shakes his head and quashes the brief anger.

He checks the chrono mounted on the bulkhead. "I gotta run, dear. I am due to help Thyla take the navicomputer apart. If you need anything, ask Vizago. He has instructions to help you in any way you need."

 _He wasn't kidding about the shape this thing is in_. She realized that this hyperdrive had been cobbled together with parts from incompatible ships and it had looked like it had not had preventive maintenance in months.

She had not left the conduit since, except to use the 'fresher. She had snatched sleep next to it. She had felt a pair of warm hands laying a blanket over her and putting a pillow under her head. She had opened her eyes briefly; getting the sensation of crimson skin and laughing eyes before falling asleep. As well as unaccountable warm sensations lower down.

Vizago had been distant, but had done everything she has asked. She had even caught him nodding with approval at the work she was doing, as well as taking notes on a datapad as to what she was doing.

She strips her gloves off and catches a glimpse of herself in a glass port. Her orange skin is covered with dirt and grease; her white facial markings are almost invisible. She sighs. _I think I am done on this tune-up for now._

She senses a presence in the corridor outside. _No Force presence, so it isn't Croft or Gungi._ The hyperdrive conduit had been an excellent place to avoid people for a couple of days, after feelings had--changed. 

She walks out into the corridor to find the _Opportunity's_ Captain, Lassa Rhayme standing there. The Pantoran's bronze eyes and full lips break into a smile. Her blue skin and lavender hair, drawn into a braid, remind her of her friend Riyo Chuichi, the Senator of Rhayme's world, albeit without the familial tattoos. Rhayme had told Ahsoka that her crew was her family - tenuous at best, seeing that Rhayme's democratic code could cause her to be voted out at any time.

She does see the black smudges rubbed on the blue cheeks under the Captain's eyes. A symbol of mourning for Pantorans.

"Hey, Tano," she says brightly. "Broken my ship yet?"

"Not quite, Captain," Ahsoka replies. "She's well-made. Not finding too much wrong with her after I cleaned up some of the shoddy maintenance issues and took care of the jury-rigging. Had to do some of my own, but it will hold until the parts get here, if you can get them. I am in the process of recalibrating the flux monitors on the hyperdrive - might squeeze a couple extra hours out of long jumps."

"Wow, you have really earned your stay here, and then some," the pirate says. "You sure I can't try and talk you into staying? That asshole Jedi says you are good in a fight. In spite our of differences right now, I do respect his skills and opinions in a fight."

Ahsoka looks down at her boots. The aforementioned "asshole Jedi," is one reason she can't stay. She needs to keep her distance from the Jedi, even one as unorthodox and as out-of-favor as Croft.

 _No, it has nothing to do with us kissing,_ she tells herself.

She looks back into Lassa's eyes. She starts to speak, then stops. Lassa's eyes soften. That gives the young woman the strength to say what she needs to say.

"I appreciate all that you have done for me, Captain. I know that you didn't have to help me; that Croft probably talked you into something you didn't need...."

"Nonsense, Ahsoka. Despite Croft's persuasive nature and his ability to make my toes curl and my eyes roll back...."

_Way too much information, especially when that has been on my mind._

"...he doesn't talk me into anything," Lassa finished.

"I appreciate all that you have done for this old girl. I think you have more than earned what I am going to pay you."

"Captain, you've given me room and board, you don't..."

"Hush, sweetie. You have earned it. Hopefully it is enough for a fresh start, if that is what you want. And call me Lassa, Ahsoka."

"Thank you Lassa,"Ahsoka chokes out.

Lassa changes the subject. "Babe, you really need a shower. You are filthy."

"I was on my way to the crew quarters,"Ahsoka started...

"Sweetie, you will not get a shower in there. I think that since you are so set on leaving, you should move into my cabin." Lassa says it without missing a beat.

"There is a huge tub in there, in addition to a shower, plus a large bed." She stops at Ahsoka's look. "There are no strings of that kind, Ahsoka. You have my word, unless you want it. As much as I would love to have you sitting on my face and be kriffing your brains out, I wouldn't force you or obligate you. I will enjoy your company and conversation, plus give you a little luxury." She gives a Tano-like smirk, "I'd like you with your brains intact."

Ahsoka nods, a little taken aback by Lassa's bluntness. There is a pensive look on her face. "What about Croft?"

"Croft and I have a complicated relationship. He is currently back in his own quarters. We are not exclusive."

Ahsoka studies Lassa for several seconds, and then blinks as if making up her mind. She moves closer to Lassa and finally nods.

Lassa smiles again, and puts her hand on Ahsoka's face. Ahsoka stands there and slowly covers the hand with her own and gently kisses Lassa's palm.

XXXXX

Ahsoka stands in the middle of simple, but elegantly furnished cabin. It is decorated with comfortable furniture in the cabin and a few plush carpetings covering the deck. She does wonder about the faint scars of what looks like weapons fire on the bulkheads under newer paint. She shakes her head. Ahsoka sets down her small bag, containing her few possessions. "This is beautiful, Lassa," she says in wonder.

"Thanks," Lassa replies. "We make good money. I set aside some of my share to improve the crew's lot - better food, better quarters. I invest a little bit into my comfort, too."

"You must do well for this."

Lassa smiles and says, "You haven't seen the best part."

Lassa takes Ahsoka by the hand through a door--not a hatch, but a door. There, Ahsoka casts her eyes on the largest 'fresher she has seen. _Okay, this is a bit more ornate._ There is both a shower and a bathtub, both big enough for multiple users. Everything is framed in Alderaanian marble and Naboo tile, with rich fixtures.

 _Ornate, but still warm and comfortable_ , she thinks.

Lassa turns toward Ahsoka and begins to unbutton the front of the filthy coveralls that the young woman is borrowing. She gets them undone and stops. She gently places her hands inside the top over the Togruta's heart. They look into each other's eyes.

Lassa breaks the spell. "Tell you what, beautiful. You take these clothes off and get into the shower. I will fix us a drink and start the tub. You get that top layer of my ship off, then we'll get into the bath. I'll scrub some of those hard to reach places and your back, and we'll see how the evening progresses. We'll take it as slow as you like."

Ahsoka takes a deep breath and reaches for Lassa's face. She brings it close and they kiss. The kiss is gentle and tentative, but nothing like the fumbling attempts with Barriss. Lassa feels Ahsoka's tongue gently pressing with feather touches for entry. Lassa allows tHe entry and then counters with her own tongue.

Lassa pushes her back. They both come up for air. "As much as I would dearly love to be turning you inside out, I think that you really need to get clean," she says.

"Not really into the aphrodisiac qualities of dirt and grease?" Ahsoka asks with a Smirk.

"Considering the fact that I am so ready to take you on the floor, right now, I don't think it would matter," the Pantoran replies with an intake of breath, "but I want you to be comfortable."

She slaps Ahsoka on the ass. "Get naked, babe. Got some things to show you."

XXXXX

Ahsoka steps into the cascade of water. She holds her head under the water for several minutes. Other shower nozzles come on and strike her from every side. _I could stand under this for several months._ The water is doing a wonderful job of relaxing her, as well as taking the surface dirt off. She knows that Lassa is drawing a bath, but this deluge is hard to leave. She sighs and takes up the fragrant soap and a rag and works on the rest of the dirt. She is soon covered in soap as she begins to think of the feelings that came over her just a few minutes ago under Lassa's touch.

When she left the Order, she had left behind everything--including the one who had betrayed her--the one that she had grown close to, as a friend, and as someone she could share a few stolen moments of pleasure. Moments that she could count on one hand; as their duties took them away from each other's company for longer and longer periods of time. It had been months before they had touched each other until Umbara, but they were both so miserable there that their moment had nearly fallen awaay--a moment seized in a deserted corridor of a Stardestroyer.

Ahsoka had detected a shift in Barriss; a shift that she couldn't explain until it was all over. All of what they had died with Barriss' betrayal.

Ahsoka closes her eyes. There had been no one except her own fingers since she left the Order--her life, behind. _Well, not quite_. There had been a young smuggler on Level 1313; some clumsy--on both of their parts--touches and grapplings. She has a memory of his hands moving haltingly over her breasts as they stood facing each other naked, under a broken water pipe in a deserted alleyway. Plenty of other offers from the sleemo circles she had moved in, including a few that she had to leave a few marks on said sleemos; either in a higher pitched voice or in broken bones.

Then, there was the Croft question. Their conversations, which she had missed, had turned--different. Maybe their isolation, combined with their previous experiences, as well as the bond that already existed had turned them on their head. She could sense hunger, affection; even the love that already existed. There was something else there from both of them--a gnawing loneliness.

She starts as she realizes that her hand was creeping over her stomach to her center. She closes her eyes. _Maybe not the time for this._

"Starting without me, sweetie?" a sharp Pantoran accent asks. Her eyes snap open and her hand jerks away.

Lassa Rhayme stands in the shower. She has turned the nozzles off at the entrance. Two glasses rest in a covered alcove. Ahsoka realizes that she is staring at the woman.

The scrutiny is returned from the pirate's bronze eyes. She realizes that the pirate's own hand has strayed downward.

She sees that the Pantoran's blue skin is marked by the scars of her profession. Ahsoka knows that her own body is marked as well from her two years in battle and the time since.

The captain brings her hand up from her center and picks up the two glasses of amber liquid. She hands one to Ahsoka, and takes a large sip from her own. Ahsoka follows suit. The whiskey burns as it goes down; but it provides a smooth warmth that Ahsoka has only had hints of at some of Padme's gatherings. At least, whenever she could sneak a drink under the watchful eyes of her Master and his Master. The glasses only have a touch in them and they both finish them. Placing the glasses in their alcove gives them a moment to gather themselves.

"It looks like you are pretty clean, beautiful; I need to run some soap over me, as well. I am sure that we can both find nooks and crannies that we might miss alone. I don't want to stay in here too long, as you will shrivel up." A warm smile spreads over her features. "I think that we can forgo the bath." Her eyes take on a powerful look of--something. "I think that we have a date with some more fulfilling wetness."

Lassa's blunt talk of what they will be doing for the next several hours is something Ahsoka has never experienced before. They move towards each other. Ahsoka and Lassa fall into each other's arms. Ahsoka touches her lips to the pirate's. When they come up for air, the young ex-Jedi takes charge and moves Lassa under the water. She takes up position behind the older woman and rests her face on the blue skin of her neck and back. She realizes with a twinge of pride that she is of a height with the pirate, who is not a small woman. Ahsoka has been conscious of her growth by her lekku and montrals, but not of her own height over the last year or so.

She smiles and shakes her head. She picks up the bar of soap and begins to run it over the pirate's back. As she does, her lips track over the neck of the woman. She hears an involuntary giggle as her tongue touches behind the Pantoran's ear.

Ahsoka, ever diligent, concentrates on that area as the laughter rises. She turns Lassa around in the column of water. Their lips meet again as Ahsoka continues to move the soap and her hands over the pirate's body. She trails her lips down to the young captain's breasts.

Her mind flies through time and space as it feels and sees warm olive skin and a smaller frame under her lips. She shakes her head violently to send the thoughts away. She tries to concentrate on the different sensations under her lips.

Ahsoka feels a strong hand on the back of her lek. A comforting hand. "Shh," a warm voice says, "Go where you need to go, sweetie. We both have our ghosts."

She carefully replaces the soap and turns the woman where she rests against her back once again. She buries her face in the damp, pinned up hair, then again rests her face against the neck.

She feels the woman shudder through the connection of their skin. She realizes that her hand has tracked down to Lassa's core. She hears the woman's cries increase as her hand ghosts through the lavender curls. She is surprised to hear her own voice in harmony as she feels the wet warmth tighten around her fingers. A final scream and Lassa falls back into Ahsoka's arms. Ahsoka falls back herself to the floor of the shower. She waves her hand. The cascade of water ceases and is replaced by warm air flowing over them, drying them. She places her fingers in her own mouth, exploring the tastes. She notices Lassa looking at her; she jerks her fingers away sheepishly.

Lassa smirks. She stands up, pulling Ahsoka with her. "I think we're clean enough, beautiful." She kisses the young Togruta. Lassa pulls her from the shower and the 'fresher.

Ahsoka finds herself standing in front of the bed. She doesn't move. Lassa rolls her eyes and pushes her on the bed, on her face. Ahsoka rolls over as Lassa lays on top of her. Ahsoka can feel Lassa's laughter against her lips, as her arms wrap around the blue back.

Her eyes close as the Pantoran's mouth tracks from her lips, to her throat. The insistent mouth moves over to the left lek. The lek stripes change colors, as the lek flexes against Lassa's face. Both women gasp at the sensation. Lassa moves to her breasts. Ahsoka squeaks as she feels Lassa's teeth.

The pirate Captain lifts up and moves down Ahsoka's body. The Togruta's fingers tangle in the long hair as Lassa pulls her to the edge of the bed. She kneels in front of her. Ahsoka moves her long legs over the Pantoran's shoulders, pulling her closer.

She gasps as the Pantoran's lips play over the sensitive skin of her legs. Her breathing increases as Lassa's mouth moves ever closer to her center. She chances a look down. She sees Lassa's brilliant bronze eyes looking at her expression as her lips touch the markings around her objective. The eyes are laughing as Ahsoka feels the pirate's tongue move between her folds. She can feel the wetness flowing as Lassa closes her eyes to concentrate on her task. Ahsoka can still feel the smile against her skin. She closes her own eyes. Patterns of light swirl on her eyelids as she feels the woman's mouth play over her clit and unlock the explosions in her mind.

Ahsoka screams as those patterns of light reach down to her core and travel back to her mind.

XXXXX

_Ahsoka floats above the chamber, as if an uninterested observer. She sees herself standing in a group of crimson-armored clone troopers. She is clad in a thin, short yellow shift. Her hands are bound; her headdress is clutched in her hand, rather than on her head. At a word from an officer, she is forced to her knees. A trooper with the blue armor of the 501st, cocks one of his DC-17s, and places it against the back of her head. Before she can protest, he pulls the trigger. She sees a burst of bright light and feels an intense pain. She looks down at herself lying on the floor. With an increasing dread, she looks at her face. Her eyes are open and staring. There is a hole centered in a forehead marking that oozes a small amount of blood and is smoking. Her hands are bleeding from the Akul tooth headdress clutched in them. Her floating self screams and screams and screams._

Ahsoka comes awake screaming. She is trembling and cold. She feels warm blue arms circling her in a tight embrace.

"Shh, shh, Ahsoka, you're alright, I've got you," she hears Lassa Rhayme's warm voice as the woman strokes her head.

Ahsoka gradually comes to herself and realizes where she is. Lying naked in Lassa's arms. It is still night.

Lassa holds her, rocking her gently. The Pantoran starts to sing, in a beautiful, clear voice. She doesn't understand the words, but the voice is a soothing lullaby. She relaxes.

When Ahsoka stops shaking, Lassa finishes the song. She looks at Ahsoka and waits for her to speak.

"I am sorry about that," Ahsoka says. "I'll find my bunk in the crew's quarters..."

"No hell you won't," Lassa emphatically says. "You'll stay here in my arms and in my bed if you need to for as long as you want."

Ahsoka looks at her at if she is drowning and has been pulled ashore. She can't find words.

"Do you feel like talking about it?"

"I don't know...." she starts.

Lassa releases her and gets up. Ahsoka, at first feels like she has scared the Pantoran off. Lassa merely walks over to a decanter and pours a large slug of the fine whiskey that they had sipped last night. As she walks over, even recovering from the dream, Ahsoka appreciates the movement of her ass.

Lassa hands the glass to the Togruta in her bed. Ahsoka takes it and takes a healthy gulp of it. She hands it to Lassa, who takes her own belt.

Ahsoka sits there, her chest against her knees. Lassa climbs into bed and takes the girl in her arms. Ahsoka relaxes and places her face against Lassa's breast. They lie back against the headboard.

"Do you know any of my history?" she asks, in a small voice. She feels Lassa nod. "I saw your trial on the Holonet; read the news reports. When Croft and I brought you aboard, I asked him about it, he wouldn't say anything. It seemed to be off limits and painful for him."

"It was," Ahsoka simply says.

"I thought you were getting a raw deal, even from parsecs away. The evidence was flimsy to me, and the prosecuting officer,..."

"Tarkin." The word is a snarl, grounded in thousands of years of predatory Togruta history.

"Yes. He clearly had it in for you," Lassa stated. "What was the scream, if you feel like telling me?"

Ahsoka grabs the glass and takes another drink. Her blue lekku stripes are fluctuating in shades of blue. "It is a variation of several dreams I've had since I left; since before my acquittal. This one was the blaster-bolt-through-my-head-from-one-of-my-own-troops one."

Lassa gasps. Her grasp tightens around the orange shoulders.

"There are others," Ahsoka continues. "The firing squad one. The beheading by a Jedi Temple guard. Even a hanging one."

Lassa's eyes glisten as she contemplates the last one. "Anyone that puts someone through that at your age."

Ahsoka is silent. She finishes the drink. "It was a close run thing. If my Master hadn't found the evidence of my innocence and the guilty party--. I was about to be found guilty and sentenced to one of those fates. I have had that dream every night or so since."

Lassa turns her head. They kiss until they need air.

"I will hold you as long as you need, beautiful," Lassa says, "but I think that you are strong on your own."

"Thanks, Captain," Ahsoka says, "but could we do a little more than just hold each other?" She smiles. "Don't know if I could get back to sleep just right now." Her lips capture Lassa's in a deep kiss again. She begins to trail her mouth down the pirate's body. As she reaches the woman's center, she feels Lassa pushing her on her side and shifting, moving her own face to the huntress's own core. Their cries soon echo in the night as they fall over the edge of the chasm together.

With a simple, final kiss to Lassa's mound, Ahsoka moves back up to the pirate's arms. They taste each other as they gently touch lips. Lassa feels a small voice against her chest. "Never had anyone chase the dreams away like that."

"Lassa, I..." The pirate places her fingers against Ahsoka's lips. "Shh. Don't think about anything except this moment."

"You're an incredible lover, Ahsoka Tano. That's all that I am focusing on," Lassa says.

"This was amazing," Ahsoka breathes against her skin. "Thank you." She winces. _Thank you? That is so lame._

Ahsoka settles deeper into Lassa's arms. Within moments, she is asleep, her face composed.

It takes Lassa a while to fall asleep herself. She is troubled - she thinks that there is someone else on this ship who could help Ahsoka, as well as help himself, if he would get his head out of his ass long enough.

XXXXX

Ahsoka hears voices through the fog of awakening. She comes awake with a start. The bed is empty; the bedclothes thrown off of her naked body. She starts to get up and winces. There is a bit of soreness, centered between her legs. Ahsoka comes back from the night before and fully back to her surroundings. She smiles ruefully as she realizes that the soreness extends to her jaw.

"Good morning, beautiful," Lassa says from the doorway. She is holding a tray with various pots, glasses, and plates. She walks over to Ahsoka, sets the tray down over her legs, and kisses the ex-Jedi. The Togruta enthusiastically returns the kiss. Lassa breaks away with a smirk and reaches towards Ahsoka's lips. She grasps something and Ahsoka feels the something slide out of her mouth, from between her teeth. Lassa holds up a stray, short, lavender hair. Ahsoka feels the blush all the way to her toenails.

Lassa laughs gently and pours Ahsoka a cup of caf. Ahsoka looks at the tray, the service is for one.

"I have already had mine, sleepyhead. I've already made morning rounds while you have been slug-a-bed."

"Oh, shit!" Ahsoka exclaims. "I am supposed to be finishing up your hyperdrive calibration today."

"Relax, sweetie," Lassa laughs. "It will keep; we're not going anywhere. You deserve a day of not doing anything."

"Besides," she says archly, "your tongue and fingers have been doing a pretty good job of calibrating my hyperdrive."

This time the blush spreads to her lekku, as they change colors and twitch.

"Do you think you might have some time for some further work on that today?" Ahsoka asks with a gleam in her eyes.

"I don't know," Lassa replies, "I have some holes to inspect on my ship."

Ahsoka snorts and puts down her caf. She and the pirate share a deep look into one another's eyes. Whole paragraphs are said in that look. Ahsoka breaks the gaze and glances down at Lassa. Lassa is clad in her shipboard clothes, boots, trousers, and a dress shirt. The shirt is unbuttoned to the pirate's midriff. Ahsoka sticks her face in the opening and moves it open wider until a full, blue breast is exposed. Her full lips latch on to the nipple; her tongue circles it.

Lassa closes her eyes and gasps at a huntress's teeth. "About that," Ahsoka says through her mouthful, "I think I might help you with those inspections after I eat something. I believe you offered to show me a new method. I think I am ready for that."

 

 

 

 

 


	11. I know a secret remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two emotionally clueless Jedi idiots stumble towards the next step in their relationship. A next step that everyone around them who is not handicapped with Temple training recognizes easily. 
> 
> A pirate (lovingly) shoves them to that next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Merfilly for discussions on ideas of Togruta Hunt culture.

Ahsoka walks out of Lassa's cabin, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. She can feel the eyes of the crew on her, as she makes her way to the crew's lounge. Not just eyes; she can swear that she hears snickers. Whenever she turns toward the snickers, they vanish and the crew in the area suddenly find something else to contemplate.

She walks into the galley. Croft is there looking at lines of text in a leather notebook, while stirring something in a large pot. He glances at her, taking in the change in clothing. He has never seen her dressed so....light. He has always seen her dressed in robes or battledress, or hunting clothes - something purposeful. Even the makeshift dress for their dinner had looked powerful as she fought the Dug's lackeys. She is wearing a bit of diaphanous cloth knotted at her hips, down to her bare feet, with an abbreviated top that bares her shoulders and her muscled orange belly. She stands with one leg bent, her toes on the deck and her knee bent forward. Her entire being is a picture of relaxed energy.

As well as her heretofore unnoticed, growing primal beauty.

He stops stirring and looks at her. She eyes him expectantly, waiting on him to say something. She breaks the look and turns to pour some caf from the pot on the counter. He shakes his head and goes back to preparing whatever the hell it is he is fixing in the pot. He can feel her eyes on the back of his head now.

"So," he says, nonchalantly, "how was it?"

"Best night I have had in ages," she says calmly.

In spite of her calm, he can feel the blue gaze on the back of his head turn steely.

"Good," he says simply.

He can feel her anger boil over, much like the soup is starting to. He lowers the temperature on the soup and tries to do the same with Ahsoka.

He turns to face her and puts his hands on her shoulders. He tries to keep his breathing even as becomes conscious of the soft, cool skin against his own. As his eyes track up to hers, he can see her breathing increase. He meets her gaze evenly.

It is her turn to break the gaze. She looks down and closes her eyes.

"Ahsoka," he says. "I don't know what you expected me to say. Am I envious? Yes. Am I jealous? No. I am very happy that you look more like yourself than since we met up again."

"I know what Lassa is like. I don't want you to expect too much and get hurt," he continues.

She raises her eyes back to his. The blue orbs are glistening. "I..," she starts. She gathers herself. "I don't want to hurt you, Tal," she whispers. "I just needed something and I don't know if either of us was ready to give it to each other. I sense so much pain and disappointment in you."

He watches silently as she moves the backs of her fingers to his cheek. His emotions are roiling as the fingers move through his thick beard. He hears her whisper, "Like me, you are so confused about everything that you have known."

She moves her face to his shoulder. "I don't know where this will go with Lassa," she continues. "I know that for both of us, it feels good, right now. I know that my path is not here. I think that you and I are still looking for what we want--."

He moves his hands to her face. She moves from his front. He gently kisses her and then breaks away. "Please," he says, "don't let her hurt you. And even though this sounds next to impossible, don't hurt her."

"Do you think I could?"

"No. I just want you to be careful. This is unknown territory for you."

"You ain't kidding, boy."

They both laugh and start to pull away slightly. He realizes that Lassa is watching them from the hatchway. Croft starts to say something, but stops. She walks over and puts her fingers over his lips. She pulls them both into her arms. They stand in the embrace; Lassa's forehead on Ahsoka's rear lek. Her hands lie near Ahsoka's; both sets gently rubbing patterns on Croft's back. The pirate smirks and reaches back to take his hands from her back and lays them gently on Ahsoka's ass. She hears the young ex-Jedi gasp as his fingers trail lightly over the thin cloth and then cup gently.

They stand there for several minutes. Croft and Ahsoka can feel their hearts beating in a rhythm. The Pantoran's isn't exactly stilled. Lassa then breaks away and slaps both of them on the ass. "If my hyperdrive mechanic could leave my cook alone long enough for him to get the crew's dinner to them, that would be great," she says with a smirk, "Plus, I think it is time for some calibration." Ahsoka matches her smirk. "Aye, Captain," she says, with a mock salute.

As Ahsoka starts to pull further away from Croft, she feels a twitch in his Force-signature, as well as his groin. She can't resist. She reaches down and runs her hand lightly over him. At the same time, he sees her turn her head. Her lips touch Lassa's and remain there with equal passion and lightness--equal to her touch of him.

He senses surprise in all three of them. Ahsoka breaks away and moves towards the hatchway. The young Togruta looks over her shoulder at them both, her hips swaying as she walks. "I think that I am going to get changed and work on the _Opportunity_. I think that your own hyperdrive can wait, Cap."

Croft and Rhayme look at one another. "If you'll pardon the expression, Captain Rhayme," the Jedi says, "I think that she just blue-balled you."

Lassa doesn't say anything. She walks toward the other hatch. As she passes Croft, she runs her own feather-light touch over his groin. Before she walks through the hatch, she turns around and says with a gleam in her eyes, "I'm not the only one."

Croft turns towards the cabinet and bashes his head rhythmically and repeatedly on the surface.

He starts as he feels another presence in the compartment. His Padawan stands in the hatchway, looking at him, a curious expression on his expressive face. _Please tell me he hasn't been standing there the whole time while the three of us were about to rip our clothes off._

 _No Master,_ comes through their bond. _I do have some questions, though._

Croft steels himself.

Gungi vocalizes one. _"Is this one of your lessons that I should learn, Master?"_ Croft swears that the expression on his face approximates a Tano-Smirk.

Croft grins sheepishly. "Hell, no, Fuzz. If it was, I would damn sure get somebody better at it than me to teach you."

**Republic Stardestroyer _Venator_  
Corellian Trade Spine Intersection**

Captain Jana Sloane approaches the tall Jedi Master at the bridge windows. She is hesitant to approach her. The graceful Togruta makes it easier on her. She turns and smiles. "Hello, Captain Sloane. It is good to see you again."

"Hello, General. The pleasure is mine. I am sorry that I haven't had time to greet you before now. This has been a hectic trip."

"I know. It is no matter, Captain. I know how busy you have been." Her smile grows wistful. "Both of my Padawans have always spoken very highly of you. Elle is especially thankful for your help after she was wounded."

"I was proud to help, General. Elle is a good friend, if I may say so."

The young woman glances at the deck, looking more like a midshipman undergoing her first examination than the Captain of one of the most powerful capital ships in the Republic fleet.

_Not to mention acting-Commodore of a squadron of such ships. All while looking like she is not much older than that imaginary midshipman._

Ti smiles. "What's on your mind, Captain?"

The Captain looks up, startled. She feels the warmth on her face as an unwelcome flush colors her dark complexion under the powered down lights of the bridge. "I'm sorry to ask, General, but have you heard from Taliesin?"

Ti nods. "Not in awhile, then only briefly during the operation on Z'ambique." She looks soberly at the officer. "He seems to be doing well. He is making slow progress on your little idea. I know he is loath to come back to the Temple."

Sloane nods absently. "I thought that he was the only Jedi I knew that could accomplish that mission, but I also thought that he needed to not be at the Temple."

Ti's brows raise _._ "I am glad that you did, Captain. I would have probably lost him if you hadn't." She bows to Sloane.

Her phrasing is not lost on Jana. _Not the Order._

She returns the bow. A subordinate walks over. "The Procurator's ship has reverted. He is requesting permission to dock." Ti nods at her. "Captain, please let Mr. Bel Iblis know that I await his convenience in my quarters." She softens. "Jana, if your duties allow, please join us for dinner. I would welcome any stories that you have of my Padawans." She looks at the naval officer through hooded eyes. "At least ones that you can tell."

Jana Sloane's face burns hot as she beats a hasty retreat. The smirk on the serene Master's face follows her.

_Damn Jedi. Always getting the last word._

XXXXX

The conversation and alcohol flow easily as Sloane, Ti, and Draq' Bel Iblis finish their brandy. The laughter flows, usually at the expense of Taliesin Croft.

But both Ti and Draq' grow silent as Jana haltingly tells of his decision to return to Coruscant after Ahsoka was accused. She tells them both of his despair and darkness.

Ti looks down at her hands as Jana finishes. She cannot look the young woman in the eye. Jana places her hand over Ti's. A look of gratitude flows over Ti's features at the gesture.

She smiles at Jana. "Thank you for telling me, this, Jana. My padawan and I haven't spoken directly, but I believe that both of us understand our regard and yes, I will say this in this room and this company, our love for each other."

She stands. "Captain, if you could excuse us, Procurator Bel Iblis and I have something very critical to discuss." Draq' and Jana stand.

Draq' wraps his hand gently around the Captain's. Sloane feels a certain warmth as a specific type of smile quirks his lips. "Captain, would you care to have a nightcap after I finish with Master Ti? I would love to hear more embarrassing stories about my nephew."

Sloane's eyes widen at the smile. She colors again and looks down at her polished boots. "I would like that, Procurator. Very much." Jana doesn't see the eyeroll that the Jedi Master gives behind her back. The powerful ship's Captain manages to nod as she turns around to exit. She runs her finger gently around the tight collar of her dress blues as she turns.

He sees Ti's lips form a grin of her own. "Dragon, you are incorrigible. That is a highly trained, decorated senior naval officer. She isn't going to just throw her legs open at the hint of a Corellian grin."

"I don't know. It worked for my nephew. He got it from somewhere."

"She kicked his ass in sparring. Several times, before sleeping with him."

"How do you know so much about your Padawan's sex life?"

She smirks. "My burden to bear. The training bond."

"Good thing I don't have one of those."

Draq' draws a deep breath and allows a more sober look to appear on his face. "As much as we've been putting it off, Shaak, we need to talk about Drop and Elle."

Ti nods. "I know, Draq'. I am hoping that both of our experts can figure out what actually happened. If her genetic material was taken, we need to know who took it and if they actually succeeded in doing what the Project Replica actually suggests they were trying to do."

Her eyes sharpen at his. "I, for one, would like to know if there was any complicity from anyone in the Republic. Or on the Five Brothers."

Bel Iblis looks pensively at his snifter. "I know. The sooner that we know, the better. It's been over two years since we got the information."

They both stare at the starlight in the port, each lost in dark thoughts about two loved ones.

**Free Vessel _Opportunity_  
Garel Spaceport**

The night is dark through the open portholes. Lassa and Ahsoka lay on their sides, their arms hugging one another. Their opposite hands are below, with their fingers buried in each other. They are rocking gently to their finish. Their cries mingle with the night air flowing in.

They lay quietly in each other's arms. Lassa can sense that Ahsoka has questions. She smiles gently against Ahsoka's forehead markings.

"What, dear?" she asks. "Huh?" Ahsoka says, startled. "I can feel your question through your body."

Ahsoka is silent as she looks away. Lassa feels her taking a deep breath as she closes her eyes. Lassa is fairly certain that is how she would center herself if facing a battalion of B1s.

With only a club.

"What is it like with Croft?" she asks.

Lassa continues to smile. "I thought we might get to that. You two have been circling around each other with the tension running off of you."

She can feel the ex-Jedi's skin warm. "Lassa, that's not why I am with you--."

"Hush, dear. I know it's not," she soothes, "but I know you both have feelings for each other--complicated ones. You don't have to be a Zeltron to figure that out."

She smirks against the cooler forehead. "I was kind of hoping that I would come into the galley or the engine room and he would have you bent over a counter. Might add some variety."

She can feel Ahsoka's eyes widening. "Lassa, you know about my people, right?" Ahsoka asks.

"What about them?"

"Togruta are very clannish, by nature. When we mate, it is not always with just one person. All of the adults in a kinfast help raise all of the children. Adults are referred to as "clan mothers," or "clan fathers" by the children. The bond is strong between the entire kinfast. Everyone is related, either by marriage or by blood."

Lassa listens intently. She doesn't want to break the spell.

"I only recently learned that the term that I use for Croft, and he for me--'hunt-sister' and 'hunt-brother,' means something more than just that we have hunted together. It has to do just as much with a bond--and how we prepare for the hunt and celebrate its success. Once both participants are of age."

Lassa grins. The meaning of 'preparation' and 'celebration' is clear. "Sounds like an excuse just to get laid." She yelps as a carnivore's teeth marks her collarbone.

"Pay attention, smartass," Ahsoka says takes in an imperious tone. Her voice takes on a loftier, professorial timbre. "I am imparting important Togruta cultural history here. This whole thing grew out of attempting to ensure cooperation between  clans. Usually, we mate between kinfasts, with their familial relationships, but within clans."

"What we have is basically a ritual bonding outside of the clan. Helped ensure treaties and fair division of the spoils of the hunt."

"It was apparently better than holding people hostage and cutting off lekku when somebody took too much of the beast," Ahsoka finishes.

"Yeah. I've found getting all 'groin-y' is a great way to settle arguments without violence," Lassa says. She punctuates this with a twist of her fingers, causing a noise between a squeak and a growl.

"Sometimes it still leads to violence, honey," Ahsoka says through clenched teeth.

"So what does this mean for you and my cook?"

Ahsoka pauses, as if to gather herself, as her breathing returns to normal.

"It means that the bond is as strong between some hunt-sisters-and brothers as it is between mates. There is no familial connection, just a strong bond of shared danger and joy. The act is called 'joining' rather than 'mating'. It is recognized and accepted among my people on Shili."

She smiles "We are technically of different clan. The clan that claimed him as a hunter is a few valleys away from my clan lands."

"Well," says Lassa, "there is that whole different species thing."

"I don't even know if he knew what it really meant when he stood up and claimed me. I think he did it to back me up against a hunter who was stealing what was rightfully mine." Lassa feels her look down, as she moves her head to the pirate's shoulder. "I was so proud to be claimed," she whispers. "He said that he wouldn't fight my battles for me, because I was more than capable of fighting my own."

Lassa smiles as she listens intently. In her mind's eye, she can see the scene play out. The tiny huntress. A wounded hunter from far away standing with her.

"Man's got a sense of justice a parsec wide," she says, after a moment.

"Yeah. Master Ti neglected to mention the deeper connections when she allowed us to call each other that. I guess that she wanted us to follow the hunting traditions for training, but felt anything else might be seen as 'attachment,' by the other Masters. Lassa feels the smile against her chest. "I get the idea that it didn't bother Ti too much."

"She probably didn't want you and Croft 'joining' in the cupboards at the Temple," Lassa says in her blunt fashion.

Ahsoka laughs. "I guess not. By the way, you're evading my question."

"No, you got distracted, sweet-cheeks." She takes a deep breath. "Croft is an attentive lover, just as attentive as you are. He makes me feel--."

She looks down, takes a deep breath. "I don't know how to put it in words. I have had many lovers, of many species, and many genders. Don't let this go to your head, but you and he and one other are the most complete lovers I have ever had." She pauses as she thinks about her words. "This is odd, but because of your background, you probably have the least experience of any that I have had."

Ahsoka is quiet. Lassa continues, "I think that if you and he ever join it will mean more than just the sex. It may not be a mating, but it will mean more than just scratching an itch." She reaches over and kisses the young woman.

"Does Croft know this about Togruta?" Lassa asks against Ahsoka's lips.

"I don't know. Something tells me he has done some investigating on his own," Ahsoka muses.

"I could be wrong about why I didn't know this. Around the time I would have had more advanced hunting training on Shili, the war broke out and I was apprenticed."

Lassa and she both take this in.

"What do you want to do about it?" Lassa asks.

"I don't know!" Ahsoka exclaims. "I don't want to cheapen what these emotions are by just walking in and going down on him or something." Lassa raises an eyebrow at those blunt words. _Apparently someone is rubbing off on her._

"Ahsoka Tano, you would never cheapen anything," Lassa says emphatically. "You may not be a Jedi; you may not know what your path is, but I believe everything that you do has meaning. Don't ever try to tell me otherwise."

Ahsoka can feel the emotions welling up in her chest, as her eyes water. She stops herself. She does not cry. She is Ahsoka Tano. She rests her face against Lassa's bare breasts. Neither of them say anything more as they fall asleep.

XXXXX

The young huntress sighs and climbs down into the hyperdrive crawlspace. She reaches up and pulls her tools in with her. She curses and closes her eyes against the brief pain as she slams her right montral against the overhang.

She moves further into mechanism. She visualizes the safeties on the panel above. _All good. No chance of getting mashed into Togruta-chunks._

She pulls out a microspanner and begins to gently adjust the motivator circuits. Her touch is gentle as she manipulates the sensitive tolerances. Unbidden thoughts of adjusting the tolerances with a sensitive touch on a certain Pantoran pirate, of gentle manipulations of her core fly into her mind. She Smirks and shakes her head. _Come on Tano. Focus. Not the time to think about Lassa's..._

Her awareness jerks back to the present as she feels danger in the Force. A split second later, she hears the mechanism of the hyperdrive start up in a test cycle. She feels the energy field in the conduit moving inexorably towards her. She closes her eyes and hurriedly scans the console.

The safety dongles that had been in place just an instant before were absent.

Ahsoka thinks of two words that seemed to be her former clan-master's favorite expression. One that had gotten her in trouble with his successor and with her Master's Master at least.

_Well, shit._

She begins to back out of the conduit towards the small egress. She reaches out to the Force to slide more quickly. As she reaches the hatchway, her friendly mystical energy field sends a warning to her. As do her montrals.

She manages to curl up in a ball under the hatch. Unaccountably, her mind calls out to the other Force users on the ship.

As a hammer swings through where her head had been.

A hammer swung by a beefy, bicep-laden arm. A hammer that still connects with her left shoulder.

Her left side lights up with the pain, but it doesn't sever the connection with the Force or hamper her natural athleticism. Her grimace of pain turns to a grin of exhilaration as the Force yanks her from the conduit, just as the energy field hits where she had been. The energy field and the heavy device pushing it.

 _So, I won't be disintegrated or mashed into goo,_ she thinks as she flips and lands on her feet.

She turns and faces the large, surprised Devaronian. Cikatro Vizago, the assistant engineer. He drops the hammer and goes for his blaster. Ahsoka yanks it out of his hands and sends it behind equipment. His red eyes widen in surprise.

Vizago charges her, drawing a booted foot to his jaw.

It barely slows him down. He grapples with her and begins to squeeze.

Ahsoka feels her ribs contract with the pressure. She brings both palms to his ears. He bellows in pain, but the pressure doesn't ease. She hauls back and punches him in the throat, at the same time kneeing him in the groin.

He drops her and there is a competition as to which part of his body he clutches first. She draws inward and rushes him; striking him in the gut. The Force and her strength shoves him backwards.

Her momentum causes her to lose her own balance. She scrambles up, just as he falls towards the access hatch of the conduit. He screams and tries to backpedal in mid-air as he sees the second sweep of the energy field. Ahsoka reaches both hands out and pulls. She manages to pull him up to avoid the field.

But not the carrier mechanism following it. She winces as she hears a slam and a bloodcurdling scream.

As Vizago's left horn is caught between the carrier and the lip of the access hatch. He pulls his head up. The horn is missing about half; torn in a jagged line. He put his hand on the horn. His red eyes flash fire. "You kriffing...."

The expletive is cut off as his eyes roll back and he collapses like a sack of tubers. Thorin Secura brings the hammer up on the backswing. The hammer that Vizago had been wielding a moment ago at Ahsoka. He smirks at her. "You certainly have a way of winning friends and influencing people, sweetie."

A slow drawl from the doorway rings in her montrals, "You have no idea, Thorin." Taliesin Croft and Lassa Rhayme stand in the hatchway, holstering lightsaber and blaster respectively. They walk over to her. Gungi and the beautiful Zeltron that she has seen around arrive as well with weapons drawn.

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Her legs grow weak. She sits on the worktable. "You know, I thought I gave this shit up when I left the Jedi."

She sees all five of the would-be rescuers smirk out of the corner of her eye. "You're Ahsoka Tano. A Pan-Galactic Games Gold medal level pain-in-the-ass. What makes you think a job change would make that any different?" Lassa says.

Ahsoka doesn't reply, except with a certain Mando finger-gesture taught to her by various big brothers. Croft hands her a small flask. She touches his hand and looks into his eyes as she takes it and drinks. "Heard you call, Runt. Looks like you had it well in hand," he says softly. "Never doubted you." She rests her forehead against his. He kisses the only thing that he can reach.

The end of her nose.

She is only marginally aware of Dani shooing Gungi out; of Thorin tying the hands of the Devaronian; both Dani and Thorin smirking while they worked.

Of Lassa watching them. She nods, a slow smile moving across her face.

They break away, both looking sheepishly at one another. Lassa saves them. "Looks like we found the source of discontent; of trying to sway the vote against the letter of marque in the crew."

"Why would he do it?" Thorin asks. "Surely not just because he was pissed he didn't get the chief's job."

"Don't think so," the musical voice of his sister, Thyla interjects. The navigator tosses two objects at Lassa. "Found that in his locker, hidden under some crap."

Lassa hands it to Croft. Both Croft and Ahsoka look at one another and nod in recognition. "Seppie comm unit. Guess this might be who let the Seps know when we were coming back on that first trip to rescue Nola."

Lassa plugs the other object into a nearby datapad and whistles. "Gotta be about two hundred thousand in here. Deposited every month for the last year or so. Sure didn't make it here, in that amount of time."

"About the time that Croft came up with his bright idea," Thyla says. "It was no secret on the crew that I worked for the Republic," Croft says.

Ahsoka sees Lassa's eyes narrow. "Most in increments of ten thousand. But around the time we jumped in to rescue Nola the first time, there was twenty thousand deposited."

"So the criminals on Naboo weren't the only ones who betrayed us," Thorin says.

"Nope. We always thought there was somebody else," Croft says, "somebody who knew when we were hitting."

Lassa tosses the credit chip to Thyla. "Get that to our nerd. Tell him to get the money to us before somebody gets wise. Tell him he can have ten thousand of it."

Croft looks at her, his eyebrow raised. "What?" she says. "He's a damned good nerd."

"Guess that squares us as far as 'loverboy' goes, Lassa," Thorin says with an edge to his voice, looking directly at his Captain. "I would say so," she says, her own edged look staring back at him, "and then some."

They hold the look. Thorin nods. "Are we okay, Captain?" After a moment, she nods. "We always have been, Stretch."

"Hate to break up the community hug, but what are we going to do with him?" Thyla asks.

"I want him the fuck off of my ship," her Captain says.

Croft smirks. "I have an idea."

 **Unknown Freighter  
** **Outer Rim  
Lothal Sector**

Cikatro Vizago gradually drifts towards consciousness. His head is throbbing, as he smells the antiseptic smell of bacta.

Mixed with something more pungent.

His vision clears. He brings his head up.

Right into a very large nerf's ass. He curses as he identifies the smell.

He looks around and down. His hands are bound behind his back. He scrambles up as he realizes he is naked. Lying in a paddock's floor-leavings.

He looks at his lap. Resting there are the remnants of his proud horn and a smashed Seppie communications unit.

Propped on the unit is a small card. Printed in block Aurabesh are the words, _Enjoy Lothal, Shithead. Hope you like farm animals._

It is signed, _Mace Windu, Jedi Master._

His bellow starts a chain reaction from his fellow travelers.

XXXXX

Ahsoka removes her grimy work clothes and throws them into the laundry basket. She won't need them any longer. She has done everything that she can do on the Opportunity. The ship is leaving in two days, to begin her privateer campaign against the Separatist supply lines. Lassa had shared that Croft and she had been successful in convincing some of the other captains to take the Republic's letters of marque.

Ahsoka wishes that she could stay and assist, but she feels that the close proximity to the Jedi, even one who has his own problems with the Council, would just compound the difficulty of finding her own path. She hasn't told Lassa yet, but she wanted to spend one more night with her. She opens her small duffel to look at her meager belongings. She starts when she sees that her vest and her worn Jedi combat tunic have been mended The Jedi clothing has been taken out as well to account for her growth in all directions. It had been getting a bit tight up top. She digs further into the bag and finds her meager keepsakes. Her first _Akul_ tooth headdress, along with a newer one with only one tooth, but a more practical construction. Her twin blasters that the boys had given her and taught her to use, so long ago, it felt like. Her boot knife. She wishes that she could take the clothes that Lassa had lent her for when she was not working, but they probably wouldn't be appropriate for where she was going.

As she moves deeper in the duffel, she feels a bag that had not been there before. She pulls it out and opens it. She sits down in shock. In the small bag is a huge sum of Republic credits, as well as more portable forms of exchange. She counts them and does the math in her head. For a week and a half of work, Lassa has paid her around two grand. _Enough for me to survive on for months, if I'm careful._ She sighs and thinks about the impact her stay with the pirates has had. Lassa's generosity, kindness, and yes, her other--lessons--have given her a leg up for whatever path she chooses. She digs deeper in the bag and finds a voucher for one-way passage anywhere in the Outer and Mid Rim. She closes her eyes.

She moves to the 'fresher and starts her favorite cycle in the shower. The water cascades over her as she scrubs the ship's systems from herself for the last time. Even though she anticipates the night and its pleasures, she stays focused on getting clean. She hears the door open and light footsteps across the floor. She turns around and finds Lassa as she expected her, holding two full glasses of Whyren's, a smile on her face, and her naked body. With a start, she realizes Lassa is not alone. Her eyes widen.

Taliesin Croft stands next to Lassa, holding his own drink. He stands as if unsure of what to do next. He is as naked as Lassa is. His eyes are locked on hers, as if he is afraid to look elsewhere. She looks deeper into his eyes. She sees something she would have never thought she would ever see in her hunt-brother's eyes. Those warm green orbs run the gamut from uncertainty to fear and back again. He smiles shyly at her; his eyes staying focused on hers. She knows of his experience; of his experimentation at the Temple. She is taken aback by his uncertain gaze. She feels herself smiling as his smile turns from one of shyness to his usual warm, crooked grin.

She shakes her head and moves her gaze down his body. She sees a familiar scar on his chest. A scar that her knife had made to keep him breathing. Her eyes narrow in pain as she sees the other scars that have joined the original on his body. She knows that he will find new scars on hers as well. Blemishes gained from over two years of fighting for both of them.

She forces her eyes to focus on things other than their shared pain. Her eyes move downward; they drink in his form, centering on the part of him that now stands away from his body at his middle. She can feel the heat rising on her face as her gaze centers.

She shakes her head again. _Come on Tano. You've seen a couple of those before. You've even touched one before._ Her heart constricts as she thinks of her time in the Coruscant underworld, of tentative and clumsy grapplings with a young smuggler.

Again, she pushes the pain away, as she thinks how that path ended. She realizes that Croft is looking with the same intensity at her center. His gaze is hungry and curious. _Oh,_ she thinks _, never seen those markings before._

Lassa clears her throat. Ahsoka brings her eyes back to her. She watches as Lassa puts the drinks down and pulls Croft into the shower with her. Croft waves his hand and the drinks follow them to their shelf.

Ahsoka looks at them both and raises a brow marking. "I felt like I needed to move things along," Lassa says, moving towards the Togruta, "or you would've both missed this chance."

"Lassa, I--," Ahsoka starts.

Lassa silences her with her lips. "Hush," she tells Ahsoka. "There are no expectations here, no strings, only the night."

They each take up a glass and drink, all the while looking at one another. Ahsoka reaches out and touches Croft's chest, stroking lightly through the hair with with her fingers. His own fingers gently trace her lips down to her throat and to her breasts. She shivers at his touch, as his thumbs run over the sensitive tips. She copies his movements on his chest, moving towards the scar. The scar that she inflicted. For the first time, she reaches over and traces it with her lips and tongue. It is Croft's turn to mirror the movement of her lips, gently mouthing her throat and breasts.

She sees Croft move his body closer. He takes her in his arms, tentatively. She is conscious of their skin touching, especially in the middle. She looks down, her eyes closing. She looks back into his eyes. She touches his bearded face and runs her fingers through his hair. Hair that is a great deal shorter than the Wookiee-length she remembers. She smiles as she feels the skin just under his hair; the smile turns serious as she traces the long scar above his left ear.

He moves his lips to hers; they touch and explore. His hands move up her arms to her shoulders; to her lekku. She can feel her lekku moving over his hands. She hears a sigh of annoyance coming from her left. She can feel a palpable eyeroll.

She feels a pair of strong hands reach down. They seize a hand from each of them. Lassa looks Ahsoka in the eye - bronze meeting azure. She takes Ahsoka's palm and kisses it.

She places it around Croft. Ahsoka's eyes widen, as she moves her hand on him. He laughs at the expression she knows is on her face, as she feels him hardening even more.

Lassa repeats the gesture with Croft's hand; placing it at Ahsoka's center. She gasps as she feels his fingers move through her wetness.

Ahsoka allows the gasp to turn into low moan asshe feels his gentle, but insistent fingers moving about her core. She can hear his own sounds as she moves her hand on him.

The light builds in her head. She can feel each of their sensations from the other through their Force-signatures. They are reeling. She stumbles as his fingers dip inside her and find the nerve cluster. She looks into his eyes; sees nothing but raw hunger and need.

She is fairly certain that those emotions are reflected in her own eyes.

Lassa steadies them both as the light shatters their beings. Their cries echo over the cascading water. She holds them tight. As their breathing steadies, she smiles. "I think that we should move this to the bed, loves. Not sure that I can support both of you for another round."

She feels his gaze on her; she chances a look. His eyes no longer reflect the hunger that they both feel. His eyes are tender and uncertain again. He captures her lips with his own.

XXXXX

Three bodies flop against the headboard of the large bed. Breath coalesces in the air. The dim light reflects over their sweat-soaked skin. Ahsoka looks at Croft and Lassa on either side of her. The last couple of hours have been marked by new sensations, new tastes, and new explosions.

They relax against one another; kissing and gently stroking. Croft gets up and walks to the sideboard. Both women appreciate the view as he walks away. Each catches the other looking; they look at each other and snicker.

Croft pours them a large glass of whisky. They share the glass as he settles back against her side. She kisses him. There are a variety of tastes on his lips underneath the spice of the whisky. She feels Croft's lips move against her left lek. His tongue runs almost to the montral.

 _New experiences,_ she thinks as she shudders. _Everything under the stars._

All except one.

As she gasps again at the sensations, she can feel that this one last experience is hovering in the air, just out of reach.

She busies herself kissing Lassa's shoulder. The bronze gaze is palpable in her question.

Ahsoka stops. She looks at her hands. Croft stops as well, his green eyes locked on her.

_I am an adult. On my world for at least two years, if not more, with that headdress. In the Republic, as of a few days ago._

Lassa places her palm on the right wing marking on her cheek. "If this is what you want, Ahsoka," she says gently.

She looks into Ahsoka's eyes. "If you want this, I will help you, my huntress," she gently whispers. "If you don't, you don't have to."

Ahsoka looks down, then back at Lassa. She slowly nods to Lassa.

Ahsoka turns to the hunter on her left. She kisses him, then sits up and faces him. He recognizes his part and mirrors her posture.

She hears words from his mouth. She realizes that he is speaking in her birth-tongue, albeit haltingly and in a lower register. The trills are not there, but the words are.

_Words that are true._

Ahsoka looks down for a moment at his words. Her gaze returns to his eyes. She only sees respect, love, and yes, lust in his eyes as he returns her gaze. He places his hand on the opposite fan mark from Lassa's hand. "I honor you, as a fellow hunter, Ahsoka Tano," he says. "I have chosen you as my hunt-sister. As a sign of that honor that you have granted me, I will respect your wishes."

Ahsoka's eyes soften, She stumbles over her reply in the same language. "I honor you as a fellow hunter, Taliesin Croft. I have chosen you as my hunt-brother. I will honor your body with my own. I will join with you."

Lassa is looking at both of them, unsure of the words, but relaxes at their expressions. "I don't know what just happened, but something did. What does this mean?"

"It means, Captain," Ahsoka says with a full-on Smirk, "I am going to fuck his brains out."

Lassa snorts at the unfamiliar word from those lips. "Go easy on him, dear. He doesn't have that many to begin with."

Croft's eyeroll cuts through them both as they laugh.

Lassa grows serious. She touches them both at their centers. She strokes for a moment. They can both feel the sensations beginning to cascade in their minds.

She takes both of them in her arms and squeezes them to her. She releases them. She pulls away and backs away. "I will be here for you both. This is your moment. Be gentle with each other. Savor this moment. It will be time to be less gentle later."

As she backs away, Ahsoka remembers an old text on Togruta sociology. Of the role of the hunt-mother in teaching the next generation; at least in the not-too-distant-past. Teaching them in all things.

Including this one.

She reaches over and touches her lips to her hunt-mother-for-the-moment.

She turns her attention to Croft. She knows that this is not his first time, but his eyes mirror the uncertainty that she is sure is in her own.

His arms circle her back. She mirrors the movement. She can feel her rear lek moving on his hands on her back. Her hands can feel the fresh scratches on his back and shoulders as her palms splay on them. She can feel his warmth surrounding her. She captures his lips with her own. Her tongue gently touches his lips. His mouth opens, accepting.

She sees his eyes close as they kiss. Hers remain open.

She doesn't want to miss anything.

She sees the grin form on his lips as he pulls away. There is a hint of mischief in it and his eyes.

Her patented Smirk flows across her face. They can feel the pirate roll her eyes again at their expressions.

They hear a whisper. "So goofy."

Ahsoka sees her lover's eyes grow intense. His lips play on the soft skin of her throat; they track downward. He pauses at her breasts, his tongue circling their tips. She giggles as she feels his teeth gently pulling. She moves her mouth to his shoulder.

His gasp is visceral as she adds her carnivore's teeth to his skin.

She had already marked him several times. As well as Lassa.

She feels his smile against her skin. His tongue traces downward. She laughs.

The giggles become more pronounced; moving into laughter as his tongue dips in and around the crater in her belly. He looks up from his ministrations with a smile, as if recording the location of that sensitive spot.

He takes a deep breath. His lips move past her center to her thighs. She lays back and opens them for him. Her gentle cries mark the night as his lips and teeth play over the soft, sensitive skin.

She can feel her heart and breathing increase their tempo as his mouth inches closer to her center.

He kisses the white marking above her center. Her voice gives a squeak as his tongue dips into her core, as her taste hits his senses.

He draws the nub of nerves into his mouth. Her cries increase in volume and pitch, until his human ears can no longer detect them.

He can feel her growing to her finish; the wetness building. His mouth takes her to the edge.

Without warning, he draws away from her. She whimpers for a brief moment, as her eyes focus again. She sees him looking up at her, as his face moves towards hers. He kisses her; she can taste herself on his lips. She tries to find her voice. She smiles with her lips and her eyes instead.

She can see the question in his eyes. She covers his lips with hers. She nods gently when they break away. She brings herself up on her knees. Her small hand seeks him. She moves closer to him. She can feel him at her entrance.

She looks briefly at Lassa. Her eyes return to his. She holds his gaze in hers as she sinks on him.

She feels his hands on her back, lightly touching her, not pushing, just holding. A sharp pain rolls from her center to her mind. She gives a loud gasp, a gentle cry.

He does not move; he lets her set the pace. She finds that the pain eases a bit as other sensations take over. She looks into his eyes. A question is there--an offer. She answers by seizing his lips with hers as she moves gently.

She can feel the light build. She looks at him; can see him struggling not to release. Their cries mingle in the night. She can feel the beginnings of the explosion.

Her hunter shifts. He makes to move out of her. She shakes her head furiously. "No," she whispers, "it's okay. I'm on the strip." She smiles. "Not even sure if that could happen."

She feels every sensation on her skin. She can feel her eyes close slowly, the skin of her eyelids lowering over her gaze. The last thing she sees as they close is Tal putting his forehead on her chest. She can feel his cry against her skin as his release fills her.

The sensations are so powerful, that she can soon only feel the warmth of his finish inside of her. She hears another scream--a scream that cuts through her.

It takes a microsecond to realize it is her own voice. Croft's arms are tight around her; she tries to unlock her own arms from around him. She finds that she can't. They fall to their sides as they attempt to breathe.

The first sensation that she can isolate is that of her lekku moving about his skin and his head. They both laugh at the sensation.

Ahsoka feels Croft roll onto his back, their connection broken. She pillows her head on his shoulder, careful of her montrals in his face.

They both feel another warm presence. They both feel the warmth as Lassa runs a warm, damp cloth over them.

They focus on each other rather than on the redness marking the cloth when she finishes. Neither of them focus on the ache that Ahsoka feels directly or Taliesin feels through the Force-connection.

They slide into a half-waking, half-sleeping state. Their hands and lips play gently over each other.

Lassa Rhayme looks down at both of the lovers. A warm smile plays over her features. She runs her hand through Tal's hair and over Ahsoka's lekku.

The smile is troubled as she grabs a short robe and walks out of the room. Troubled because she doesn't have to be Force-sensitive to know that both of their paths are uncertain.

Uncertain to each other and to themselves.


	12. That can extinguish all suffering--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huntress finds her path. She helps a hunter to find his.
> 
> Two lovers find theirs, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuno's Nocturne
> 
> Every day, when it gets so very dark  
> That I can read no more,  
> I walk along the street singing,  
> Look at every girl...  
> Whether perhaps--who knows--  
> Today of all days a miracle will take place:  
> That I shall come home redeemed,  
> Peaceful and forever free...  
> From such pursuits I come back  
> To the house tired and confused,  
> I know a secret remedy  
> That can extinguish all suffering--
> 
> Alfred Lichtenstein

Croft comes awake with a jolt. He doesn't know what it is that wakes him, but he is sure that there have been no dreams that night. The faint glow of the spaceport lights paints the bed in muted phosphorescence. With a start, he realizes that Ahsoka, breathing lightly against his chest, and he are the only ones in the bed.

Lassa has gifted them time alone together.

He raises up on his elbow, allowing Ahsoka to gently slip off of his chest. She murmurs and slides down on the pillow. He gazes at her sleeping face and thinks about the path that has led them here. Her face still has echoes of the bratty youngling he has known, the one whose bright snark was the bane, as well as the joy of his time as Clawmouse clan master. The one who used him, without compunction to defeat her first _Akul_ beast, but saved his life while doing so and nearly exhausted her young use of the Force getting him help.

But, he can see the changes as well. Her face still has some of the roundness of youth, but he can see that growing out. Growing out from maturity, as well as the trials she has been subjected to over the past year. The lessons she has learned on her own. Her eyes, those bright blue orbs, still contain the laughter of better times, but are tempered by shadow and pain.

He shakes himself out of his reverie. Her breathing is even, but light. He reaches down and kisses her. He gently lets his tongue rest against her lips. She opens her mouth and meets his tongue with hers. Her eyes slowly open. She puts her arms around him and rolls to her back, pulling him on top of her. Her hips move slowly against him as her legs open. She looks into his eyes and smiles as they kiss. The smile turns to a mischievous grin as he jumps when a very cold, sub-Togruta-temperature foot runs up his leg to his ass.

The expression turns fierce as her slightly warmer hand grasps his cock. She wraps her legs around him and guides him inside of her. He sighs as he sinks into her. Her eyes close for a moment and both of her hands splay over his back before seizing his shoulders to pull him deeper. He feels the bite as she drags her nails from his shoulders to his back.

He is gentle with his thrusts, but she is having none of it. _This is that time not to be gentle, Tal,_ is whispered in his ear, as he feels her teeth in the lobe. Her own thrusts against him increase and he feels the word "harder" against his skin. Within seconds they are thrusting against each other with abandon, their cries echoing out of the open portholes and probably throughout the spaceport. She slows the pace down again, to a languorous pleasure. She lulls him to slow his pace; then, with a snicker, nearly throws him off the bed as she resumes her insistent pace to bring them to a finish. Her voice again climbs into a register that his ears cannot detect as she screams.

His cries are lower in register, but no less loud.

She feels his lips on her shoulder as he lightly rests his head there. He doesn't stop with her finish, but continues to move with her, slowly and gently, until she cries out again as he finishes.

Ahsoka collapses into the mattress and flips him onto his back; still connected. She smiles as she sees the raw emotion on his face as she continues to move gently around him. She touches his face tenderly as he pulls himself out of her, but she seizes him and trails her lips slowly and deliberately down his throat, to his chest. She pauses there for several minutes, reclaiming her breath, smiling against his skin.

Her hands move to his waist in advance of her lips. Croft lies back with what he is certain is the stupidest grin on his face. He sees her look up at him from his waist with a devilish glint in her blue eyes and the patented Smirk on her face. He can feel the blood moving again at her touch. She kisses him, once, twice; he can hear someone draw a sharp breath. He realizes it is his own as she engulfs him.

Sounds she has probably never heard before come out of Croft's mouth as she continues. The light flares at the edge of his vision behind his eyelids, moving to the center with the intensity of....

"Yeeowch!" he exclaims as the sensation disappears and is replaced by a sharp pain on his left hip as her predator's teeth finds his skin.

"Hey!"

"Pay attention, Bait," the _akul_ beast says imperiously.

"Yes, bossy," he breathes. The light blossoms again as her mouth returns to its task.

Later, she lies with her head on his stomach, languidly stroking his belly and hips. Her lekku twitch as he feels her soft laughter against his skin. "Didn't know you could make a Corellian purr like a tooka. Now I know the secret."

"Hope you use the knowledge, wisely, Master," he says with a gasp as her fingers lightly hit a particular spot on his right hip.

He feels her start. He opens his eyes and sees a blue hand on her shoulder. She looks up as Lassa stands there smiling.

"I wanted to give you some time to yourselves," she says, "I see you made good use of it. I was sitting on top of the ship when I heard your little concert. Couldn't resist coming in." She reaches down and kisses the young woman. Ahsoka matches her smile as they share tastes.

Croft moves over, taking the unmoving mass of Togruta with him. Lassa climbs into the bed with them and rests her head on his shoulder. Her hand moves gently over Ahsoka's head. Consciousness fades from all three of them.

Later, there is time for more light as one of them--nobody can remember who, wakes the others with insistent fingers and mouth. Green and bronze eyes stare down at the young ex-Jedi with abandon as they build to a rhythm.

Ahsoka thinks about her journey, as the three of them hold each other tightly. She leans up and kisses both of them; their tastes mingling again. Her mind is coming undone, but her heart is torn - torn between staying here, and continuing along her path. She pushes it out of her mind as the light blooms in her vision. As the others fall asleep again in a jumbled pile, she remains awake, silent tears of confusion falling from her eyes.

 _Ahsoka Tano does not cry_ , she thinks as she finally falls into a fitful sleep.

Fitful, but with no accompanying nightmares about loss and executions. At least for the night.

XXXXX

As the morning light begins to paint the cabin in shadow, Ahsoka Tano stands and looks down at her lovers. She is wearing her vest and trousers; her strong arms are encased in their bands. The small duffel is slung over her shoulder, her knife is sheathed at her boot. She gently bends over and kisses both Lassa and Croft, running her fingers gently through their hair. They stir and move closer to one another. She smiles as both of them reach out beside them, as if searching for someone else. They stir, but do not wake. She turns and exits the cabin without a word. She walks purposefully towards the hatch, as if willing herself to keep going; to not turn around, throw off her clothes and never leave the tight embrace. The deck watch at the entry port watches her silently, taking in her clothing and the duffel. One of them, a Tholothian gunner named Adis, smiles and says, "Good luck, kid." She acknowledges him with a bright smile of her own and a wave.

Once again, Ahsoka Tano walks forward into the unknown. Behind her, she can feel the pain in the Force as Croft awakens and feels her departure. _Take care, my hunt-brother. May the Force be with you._

Her smile lightens as she feels his reply. _May the Force guide you on your path, Runt._

XXXXX

Croft sips his caf as he cleans up the galley. The usual monosyllabic grunts signify the crew's appreciation of his efforts. He sighs and nods at Gungi. His Padawan puts his furry hand on his Master's arm and squeezes as he walks out. He gives a mournful hoot. 

It had been a week since since he had opened his eyes and realized that she had left.

 _I miss her, too, my Master. We just found her, comes through their bond._ He nods and smiles. "Your feelings do you credit, lad."

As Gungi leaves, he shakes his head. _You've really turned into the worst kind of Master, asshole. When you can't think of anything better to say, spout a fucking platitude._

Gungi turns before he exits. _I'd take one of your platitudes over some of the other Master's so-called advice, Master Croft._

Croft looks down. _Really need to watch your thoughts around him._

He sits at the counter. He opens a cabinet and pulls out a small bottle. He pours a large slug into his caf cup.

He thinks of that young huntress. He thinks of the change in their feelings. His face grows cloudy as he thinks of her running.

_Did I drive her away? Did I make her run?_

He shakes his head. He remembers something Ti had said, after he and Ahsoka had both said things that they both would regret, during one of their innumerable early arguments. _Neither one of you can really be made to do anything once you've set your minds to something._

His thoughts are calm as he comes to a decision.

He drains his caf. His senses grow alert as he hears loud voices in the corridor.

He rolls his eyes as he hears the words. He comes alert as he hears a scream of pain and anger.

Two screams that echo one another.

He charges out of the galley.

XXXXX

Croft comes into a scene of chaos. Five crewmen are holding two women apart. Both women hold knives; there is blood splashed on them, the deck and bulkheads and the referees.

Lassa Rhayme is screaming at the other woman and at her crewmen. "Let me fucking go, you assholes. She's a goddamned cop."

Dani Faygan, who is holding a wound in her side, is yelling with equal fervor. "So what, you kriffing psychopath!? Cops backed your play in your last caper."

Lassa strains anew against the two large crewman. Croft notices that Gungi has her around the middle and is lifting her off of the ground. He is covered in blood from a cut on her leg.

Croft's eyes flash with anger. His own dark thoughts fall to the wayside. "What the hell is going on here? Could you two calm the fuck down, so we can figure this out?"

An emphatic 'no' in stereo is his reply.

The 'no' is accompanied by a cacophony of curses in at least two different languages. He moves toward Dani. He has never seen the normally easygoing officer this angry. She doesn't look at him; but strains to focus on her opponent.

Croft adds his own curses under his breath. He looks for an out. He notices that one of the two restraining Lassa has seized her blaster from its cross-draw rig. _Well that's one thing. Pity they didn't think to grab their hideout knives._

_Of course, with Dani, there would be multiple hideout knives._

He shakes his head. He reaches out with his hand, makes a pulling gesture. Lassa's blaster flies into his hand. As it flies, he concentrates on a small switch on the weapon.

The four crewman and Gungi watch as the weapon flies away. Their eyes widen, but they release the two combatants. As the two women rush toward one another, Croft points the blaster at them and fires four times.

Four concentric rings of energy strike the two. They crumple to the floor.

Four sets of wide eyes stare at him in shock. Gungi is smiling, his teeth bared.

Croft calmly hands the blaster to Thyla, the ship's Twi'lek navigator. "Take them below. Separate them. Dress their wounds and make sure they don't have any more weapons on them. I'll be down to look in on Lassa in a bit."

They obey him without question; seeing the dangerous look in his eyes. "Gungi," he says, beckoning to his Padawan. "Use our getaway ship. Take Dani out of here. I am going to make sure she is fixed up. Contact Draq' and rendezvous with him."

Gungi nods. Multitudes of questions are on his face, but he obeys. He heads towards the hangar.

Croft looks to the overhead and walks slowly out of the room. He gives a half-hearted smile as he sees the former Republic officer, Adis, browbeating three other crewman to clean up the blood.

_A pirate's life for me._

XXXXX

Croft walks into the small sickbay. Dani is blearily looking at Lassa's battered med droid. Her shirt is off. She looks at Croft.

"You shot, me, Tal."

"Thought it was the thing to do at the time." He walks over to her. She reaches over and pulls him to her. They rest foreheads. He feels her wince as the droid probes the cut on her side.

"I recommend immersion in bacta for several hours. It is not a deep wound, but does need therapy," the droid says in its toneless voice.

Croft turns to the droid. "Can't do it. It might be more hazardous to her health if she stays here."

The droid looks like he is going to protest. A look at Croft and he stifles it. He gives the mechanical equivalent of a long-suffering sigh and pulls out a bacta pad.

Croft turns his attention to Dani. "So how did your cover get blown?"

"Blown? I'll tell you how it got blown. Your insane girlfriend had the master-at-arms search my bunk. He found my comm and my shield."

"What the hell were you doing with your shield on an undercover?" Croft asks incredulously.

"I figured with some of your wildass plans and schemes, I was going to have to flash the creds at some point."

He has no reply. She shakes her head. "To tell you the truth, I think she saw me and Draq' right after the rescue of Nola. She is clearly pissed at something."

"Might be bleeding over from me, Dani. I'm sorry," he says.

"Why do you say that, love? Is it because of that huntress? The hyperdrive mechanic?"

She can see the pain in his eyes. "No. That's all me." He looks down.

She says nothing, but he can feel the resonance building with comfort and warmth. She places her palm on his cheek.

"Talk to me, Taliesin Croft. I can feel your pain--your conflict. You have feelings for her, don't you?"

He shakes his head as Gungi comes in with two bags. "No time, Dani. Time for you to go. Gungi will take you to Draq'." His eyes soften. "Or to Kamino, if you like. He is going to continue on to Coruscant."

A howl of protest from Gungi and an angry exclamation from Dani are cut off by his look.

"Don't argue, either of you."

"But you need backup, Tal." A hoot of agreement comes from the young Wookiee.

"You can't back me up with major stab wounds. Plus, I think that I have worn out my welcome here."

He grins. "Besides, I think that I have accomplished everything that I could here. About twenty other captains have seen the success of Lassa and the others and have agreed to accept the letters of marque as privateers for the Republic."

She smiles. "That's great news, Taliesin," she says. She reaches over and kisses him. "Alright. We'll go. But you need to make good with Lassa. You both seem to care about each other. You need to figure out what it is."

"I think I already have. I have a solution, but I don't think anyone will be happy with it. Maybe not even me."

She kisses him again; holds her forehead to his. "Find your huntress, if you can, love. She seemed like someone so full of life, even with the pain and uncertainty I felt from her. I didn't have much interaction with her, but I saw how she looked at you. Besides," she says with a smirk, "I have it on good authority that huntresses are good for your health."

He smiles sadly. "I know, Daaineran, but I may have already screwed it up."

"Never say never, babe."

XXXXX

Croft enters the Captain's cabin quietly. The med-droid is finishing up bandaging the Pantoran's leg. He looks at Croft. "She refuses to be take the bacta therapy, as well," he says. Croft swears that the modulated voice has a mournful quality to it.

Croft looks at Lassa. Her eyes flash bronze at him. "You son of a bitch. You have the unmitigated gall to come in here after you shot me. Plus the fact that you let a fucking Corellian cop on board my ship. I ought to fucking space you."

Croft remains silent as a cacophony of curses follow the threat. He lets her wind down.

As she falls silent, her chest heaving, he says softly, "Are you through, Lassa? Because I am."

She stares at him. "Why didn't you tell me that she was on board as a cop? I thought that you trusted me."

"It wasn't my secret to tell, Lassa. She had to do what she had to in order to accomplish her job. Which was to back Gungi and I up."

"Have you kriffed her? Were you kriffing the whole time we were?" She falls silent.

"Ordinarily, I would say that this was none of your goddamned business, Lassa. But we both are beyond that. I have, but not while I was here." He looks at her squarely. "I did enjoy some laughs and some time with a couple of your crewmembers. When you kicked me out and before Ah...." He stops and looks down.

Her anger dissipates as she sees his pain. She pats the bed next to her. "Come here, Tal. Have a seat."

"Depends. Are there any knives in easy reach?"

She smirks. "Yes. Always, but I don't want to hurt you. At least not right this minute."

"I miss her too, Tal. She brightened this place up a little bit more. I saw how you both felt about each other. I saw the change come over you. I was glad to try to help move it along."

"But I also know that neither one of you knows what the hell it is that you want." He stays silent. She forges ahead. "She needs to find her path on her own, Tal. It's in her nature. It is probably why she left the Jedi, even when they were going to let her back in."

She touches his face. "You have to get it out of your head and out of your heart that she ran from you. I saw how she looked at you after that first day. Even before you joined." The term flows easily from her lips.

She takes a sip from the glass of amber liquid on her nightstand. She hands the glass to him. He drinks.

"It is my understanding that as her hunt-brother, you took an oath to her, right?"

He nods. "She knows, Tal. One thing that I have learned about you in the last year is that you are a man of honor and of your word. You would take any oath seriously."

Her own eyes tear. "I know that I have been angry at you for Asajj's death. I know and saw that you and Ahsoka both were affected by it, even though she had tried to kill you both at one time or another."

"I saw how you opened yourself up to her when she was here, when we rescued Nola. You both taught each other many things. I can't stay angry at you for that."

She grins. "Still kinda pissed about your Zeltron girlfriend, but I'll get over it. Although," she says with a pointed look. "I better not ever see her on my ship again."

He looks at her. "She is not actually my girlfriend. She is apparently my first cousin by marriage." A gleam flows into his eyes. "As well as my 'stepmother'."

The pirate's eyes narrow as she tries to decipher this. "I am not even going to ask. Just keep her ass away from me and she might stay healthy."

 _You might, too, he doesn't say,_ thinking of Dani's skills.

Her blue face grows serious. "What are you going to do, Cook?"

He reaches down and kisses her gently. She responds with her own kiss. "In spite of what you said, Lassa, I think that I have worn out my welcome here. You don't need a Jedi on your ship to remind you of Asajj. I think it is time for me to go."

Her eyes grow sad. "Tal..."

He places his finger on her lips. "It's time, Lassa."

"Are you going back to the war, Tal?"

He takes a deep breath. "No. I am not," he says, simply. "I am leaving the Order."

She takes his hands in hers. "I won't say I didn't expect this, but what about Gungi?"

"I am going to try and pick a Master for him. Someone who will build on what I have taught him. Who will love him and value his uniqueness. I have someone in mind." Tal grins. The image of a calm, one-armed Chalactan comes to his mind's eye. A Jedi who loves an oversized and surprisingly gentle clone trooper.

"Who knows? Maybe I can convince the Council to assign him here, to be the liaison with you."

"He will always have a place here, Tal. Little furry bastard is another one who will always be under my protection as a member of my family."

He doesn't ask about any others.

"What will you do?" she asks.

"I don't know. Something tells me that the Jedi won't let go of me that easy."

"I may go to Shili, at least after I see my Master."

She smiles at that. "I hope that a certain young huntress who has burrowed her way into my heart will find you there," she says.

He grins. "Never say never, as I was just told."

She hugs him to her. "She is not the only one who has dug her way in there."

"Why, Captain Rhayme. Didn't know you had one."

"Don't tell my crew. Still want to be able to flog them occasionally."

"Why would you start now, Lassa?"

Lassa rests her head against his chest. "Taliesin Croft. You are always welcome here, if you ever choose. Would you stay one more night in my arms? If it is not too painful for you? We don't have to do anything strenuous. I just want us to hold each other."

"I think that I can do that. And just so you know, it would never be painful."

She moves over in the bed. He pulls his weapons belt and boots off. After a moment, he pulls the rest of his clothes off. She pulls her shirt over her head. He lies down on the opposite side of her injured leg. He helps her pull her underwear off; her only remaining clothes. He takes her in his arms.

Their laughter can be heard as crewmembers pass the outer hatch. Laughter and memories made and in the making.

 **Free Vessel _Respite_**  
**Coruscant Approaches**

The Captain of the ship looks at his sole passenger. The young Togruta stands looking at the city-planet. His attempts at idle chatter had been politely but firmly rebuffed.

"Ma'am, we are on final approach. Can I get you transport anywhere when we make planetfall?"

The young woman turns. A bittersweet smile crosses her face. "No, Captain. I'll find my way. It's what I have done all of my life."

He looks at her curiously, but nods to her and turns away, already concentrating on the complex landing patterns.

Her blue eyes track to the deck as she thinks of the last two weeks of her life. She sees a warm grin and a pair of green eyes. A face as familiar to her as her own, now looked at in a different light. She smiles as she sees a pair of bronze eyes laughing with her and caring for both of them.

She speaks a word for him--a word from her language. An endearment given to him by another, by a teacher and a hunt-mother.

She thinks of new sensations associated with the owner of that face. She grins as she feels the warmth again.

She shakes her head, to clear her mind. A comm from a contact on the lower levels had told her of mysterious activity in levels even lower than 1313. She turns her thoughts to that challenge.

A challenge from its description that may need those skills that she spent the better part of her life perfecting.

The pair of green eyes and the grin remain in the back of her mind.

 **Shili**  
**The Plains of Shandai**

The huntress sits next to the small fire on the Plains of Shandai. She is clad in the hunting garb of her people; mainly a simple skirt that leaves the rest of her body bare.

There is no one here to be concerned with modesty. The people of the young woman who rests against her front, her own body completely bare, while not hunters, probably have less nudity taboos than the Togruta.

Both of them look up at the clear, unlighted skies, of the star patterns that are as familar to one as her own markings.

The star patterns that are a new delight to the younger woman.

Master Shaak Ti kisses the ear of the young woman lying against her. "So what is this that we are about to do, love?"

"It's called a 'heart-bonding,' Shaak," Dani Faygan says. "It basically formalizes what we have already said to one another. If we were on Zeltros, it would be the form of legal bonding."

"What does it mean, Dani?"

"It means to my people, who seek comfort and give their love widely, that we are bonded and will always come back to one another."

She smiles at the older woman. "You don't have to do this, love. As you heard when I thought that you were sleep, I have already spoken the words."

Ti smiles. "Daaineran, I think that I am ready to speak them myself. I have felt them in my heart for some time."

"What about your Jedi oaths, Master? About attachment?"

Ti smirks. "As a very wise young woman, who makes my heart and other parts leap, once said, 'Sister, I think that ship has already fucking sailed'." Dani's eyes grow wide at not only the words, but the credible imitation of her own voice.

The young woman laughs as she remembers when she had said that. When taking an Elder of the Hunt to task when she refused to talk to her Padawan about her 'curse.' Her painful illness.

"Besides. I am not signing any paperwork. This is for us."

"Before we do this, Shaak, I want to talk to you about Tal."

Ti tenses against her love. Dani continues, in spite of this. "He loves you. His heart is full of nothing but pain for the hurt he has caused you. Can you speak to him? He is afraid that his Master and his mother-of-the-hunt is lost to him."

Ti relaxes. "I know. There are regrets for both of us. I will go to the Force regretting how Ahsoka was treated. I forgave him his words the moment he said them." She pauses, collecting herself.

"His words did hurt, but a parent does not dwell on the intemperate words of her child." She smiles wistfully. "Even one as obstinate as Taliesin Croft."

"Shaak, I think that he fears to face you. He is ashamed."

"He doesn't have anything to be ashamed of." She rests her forehead against Dani's blue-tinged brown hair. "I am proud of him. I have always been proud."

Dani's eyes tear. She can feel the smile against her head. She relaxes. "You should know something. He found his hunt-sister again."

Ti sits up. "Ahsoka?"

"Yes, love. I don't know for certain, but I am pretty sure that they have engaged in something called 'joining."

Ti's eyes widen behind her. _Guess I should have seen that one coming._

She thinks of the two young hunters. They are both of age, even in the Republic at large.

"They should," she says finally. "Everybody needs to find what light that they can now."

Dani turns around and nods. She pulls the skirt from Ti's hips. She kneels up and pulls her lover to the same position.

Dani takes Ti's hands in her own and scoots closer until their knees touch. She picks up a the silk strip of white cloth and gently binds a pair of their hands together. She nods at Ti. Ti picks up the scarlet strip with her unbound hand. She places the strip over the white and binds the hands further. She returns her free hand to Dani's.

Dani begins to speak the words.

Afterwards, the Plains resonate with their cries.

The morning sun rises with the heart-bonds lying in each other's arms, sleeping a sound sleep.

A sound sleep of lovers on this, the twelve hundredth or so morning of the galactic conflagration known as the Clone War.

**Empire Day minus 30 days**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have read. One more story in the Clone Wars.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From His Vantage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752981) by [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly)
  * [Sanctuary: Empire Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8755939) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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